I assure you; while I look like a ghost, I'm no spirit or demon. I'm nothing but a girl struggling to make her way in an intolerant world. I bleed, I love, and someday, I'll die.
Si crees que todo el mundo está bien de la azotea es que no conoces a la gente que te rodea. La clave, y esto es muy relevante en nuestro caso, es encontrar a alguien cuya locura encaje con la tuya.
his face, though lined, bore few traces of anxiety. But, perhaps the confidential bachelor clerks in Tellson's Bank were principally occupied with the cares of other people; and perhaps second-hand cares, like second-hand clothes, come easily off and...
Beneath that arch of unmoved and eternal lights: some, so remote from this little earth that the learned tell us it is doubtful whether their rays have been yet discovered it, as a point in space where anything is suffered or done: the shadows of the...
It’s been a long time. How have you been doing?” I’m fine. How are you? You’re looking very handsome today, Addolgar the Handsome, lord of my loins. At least that was what she’d like to say to him, but instead she came out with, “Yeah, hi...
the story is not a pretty one. there is violence in it. And cruelty. But stories that are not pretty have a certain value, too, I suppose. Everything, as you well know (having lived in this world long enough to have figured out a thing or two for you...
The Jetavana Temple bells ring the passing of all things. Twinned sala trees, white in full flower, declare the great man's certain fall. The arrogant do not long endure: They are like a dream one night in spring. The bold and brave perish in the end...
...even nursery tales only echo an almost pre-natal leap of interest and amazement. These tales say that apples were golden only to refresh the forgotten moment when we found that they were green. They make rivers run with wine only to make us rememb...
I don’t know how you look at the inside of your head — what metaphor you choose — but for those of us with endless yawning stretches of interior and nothing but nothing to stop us from getting lost in it, drugs can be wonderfully helpful.
Is there anything more beautiful than gold?” - Freya's question. Plain-thoughted Thor spoke. “A farm at first light Is more beautiful than gold, or A ship's sails in the mist. Many ordinary things are far more beautiful.
This is what books only aimed to do and never could. Give you the glint of someone else's sunrise, what living is really like, you get old and it hurts to bend your elbow; your friends start to die, you can’t get fresh fruit in the shops.
Inside of each of us is greatness let us treat those around us as if they are much more than they appear. Let us treat each other with kindness and respect.
Our house is quiet, small and plain, and yet its rooms run far and wide. A hundred pencils, swift as rain, writing on sheets of beaten gold would not be quick enough to hold the strange adventures shadows hide...
They don't take the Bible as a general thing, sailors don't; though I will say that I never saw the man at sea who didn't give it the credit of being an uncommon good yarn. ("Kentucky's Ghost")
A man need not be ashamed of moist eyes when he gazes on the face of some loved one who is far away. It's human. It shows a kindly heart, an impressionable mind! ("The Doomed Man")
There are certain common privileges of a writer, the benefit whereof I hope there will be no reason to doubt; particularly, that where I am not understood, it shall be concluded that something very useful and profound is couched underneath; and again...
Trust that whatever you are dealing with, whatever doorway to crisis you experience, it is leading you to a greater lesson in liwing where ideally the power of love is what you learn. Forgive, and broadcast your excitement to be alive.
Soon enough his head would be swimming with tales of derring-do and high adventure, tales of beautiful maidens kissed, of evildoers shot with pistols or fought with swords, of bags of gold, of diamonds as big as the tip of your thumb, of lost cities ...
He will never let her go. Never. she belongs to him..Forever.
I'm an interpreter of stories. When I perform it's like sitting down at my piano and telling fairy stories.
Canada is a myth people made up to entertain children, like the Tooth Fairy. There’s no such place.
