In this image-driven age, wildlife filmmakers carry a heavy responsibility. They can influence how we think and behave when we’re in nature. They can even influence how we raise our kids, how we vote and volunteer in our communities, as well as the...
Living as an entity under a filled with stars sky and seeking for intuition, a voice whispers from your heart, for soul is unchained from whatever pulls it down, while what she is craving for is but only Ascension towards Divine ”.
Bright star,” Magnus said, and his eyes were thoughtful, as if he were remembering something, or someone. “Those of you who are mortal, you burn so fiercely. And you fiercer than most, Will. I will not ever forget you.”.
It's hard to say why with some people you could talk all day and all night, while with others it's a struggle to find enough to say during a single course at diner.
Friday night was the night most people thought they were supposed to have fun. Trouble was most people didn't know what fun was or how to have it, so things usually ended up pretty ugly.
He was mastered by the sheer surging of life, the tidal wave of being, the perfect joy of each separate muscle, joint, and sinew in that it was everything that was not death, that it was aglow and rampant, expressing itself in movement, flying exulta...
Father, it’s Wistala. Wistala.” Father grimaced. “You’re a star, Wistala — I saw you twinkling beneath dear Irelia last night. You, Auron, and Jizara all in a row. I’ll be up there soon. Wait.
I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I lied, I like your Star Wars sheets, you're not that bad of a driver, and I swear on my Very Cherry lip gloss that I will never lie to you again.
If I ever have to get that close to the Prince of Greed again, it’ll be too fuckin’ soon. And I ain’t ever doin’ that Star-Trek teleportation crap again, yah hear? I feel dirty .
What’s so funny? (Astrid) I’m just thinking, here I am a slave who touched a star who then made him a demigod. I have to be the luckiest bastard who ever lived. (Zarek)
With every fall of the sun and rise of the moon, I can hear it. The Prophecy. It echoes through the halls of time. It is written on the surface of every star. Even the sun and moon cannot withhold the news of the second coming. I hear it. And I fear ...
Laine taped the last box shut. That was it, then: All of Gavin's belongings put away; some for charity, some for the dump, some to be saved for a happier 'one day' that Laine felt, right now, was as distant as the stars.
Life and death lived inside each other. That's what occured to me. Death was inside all of us, waiting for warmer nights, a compromised system, a beetle, as in the now dying black timber on the mountains.
How you refill. Lying there. Something like happiness, just like water, pure and clear pouring in. So good you don’t even welcome it, it runs through you in a bright stream, as if it has been there all along.
To him the stars seemed like so many musical notes affixed to the sky, just waiting for somebody to unfasten them. Someday the sky would be emptied, but by then the earth would be a constellation of musical scores
I wish you could be kissed, Jane,' he said. 'Because I would beg just one off you. Under all this.' He flailed an arm toward the stars.
This is one of the cruelties of the theatre of life; we all think of ourselves as stars and rarely recognize it when we are indeed mere supporting characters or even supernumeraries.
Writers may be classified as meteors, planets, and fixed stars. They belong not to one system, one nation only, but to the universe. And just because they are so very far away, it is usually many years before their light is visible to the inhabitants...
His face spreads into a warm smile. “As a matter of fact, no, I have never slept under the stars – are you gettin’ all romantic on me, Camryn Bennett?” He looks at me with a playful sideward stare.
You also have a part to play in this adventure, and that part was written for you before you long before you were born.' 'Are you saying I have no choice?' 'We all have choices. But our decisions are already known.
This is a theater," Bertie, annoyed by the inquisition, dropped him onto stage. Several feet of slack cable landed atop the fairy in a slithering heap. "Oh!" Peaseblossom said. "You've buried him alive!
