He could take on anything and everything, it seemed, rather than leave himself time to reflect on his dissatisfaction with his life and what he might do about it.
Saying of the Prophet Tasks Whoever makes all his tasks one task, God will help him in his other concerns.
Your this beautiful ship that will sail a long way, and I'd only be your anchor" "A ship without an anchor can never be at rest
Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else is unthinkable. Why did it take him being whipped within an inch of his life to see it?
He was no stranger to compassion: his heart was open to many good impulses, though his rank often prevented their manifestation.
Day, the champion of the people, the one who can't bear to see those around him suffer on his behalf, who would gladly give his life for those he loves.
Yes, I know. I know that text doesn't look like much. But... actually. First note the comma. I feel proud of his comma, and of being his comma's recipient.
The arrogance and brutality of empire are not repealed when they temporarily get deployed in a just cause.
Rules of science.” Alessandro shrugged his elegant shoulders. “And what are those? We don’t even know how this works.” He pointed to his head.
He looked down at my fingers wrapped around his coat then lifted his eyes to mine. 'My tiny huntress, do you know what you've done to me?
His management philosophy, tempered in his rain-dancing days, was always to give the project to whoever had the most to gain from success--or the most to lose from failure.
The fresh smell of coffee soon wafted through the apartment, the smell that separates night from day.
Every person should decide for himself how happy, or unhappy, our society might be.
As we go through life we gradually discover who we are, but the more we discover, the more we lose ourselves.
Nearly unable to bear the thought of how much he needed her quiet strength, he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cold glass.
If a man truly loves, he gives no heed to what others may think. His heart has no room for that, for it is filled to the brim with the unutterable truth of his feelings.
He is a Shadowhunter,” said Jocelyn. “His loyalty will be to Clave and Covenant.” “He’s my friend,” said Magnus coldly. “His loyalty is to me.
He woke up blinking with a slight pain in his head and opened his eyes upon a world boiling in chaos in which everything was in proper order.
A loss of any kind is horrible. Not because it takes away, but because it makes you believe- in newspapers, in tomatoes, in empty whiskey bottles.
He could no longer pretend not to have been brought to his knees by her blows, and he could no longer avoid the sentiments that his heart forced him to feel.
How is a sincere criminal, trying hard, going to get ahead in his profession if his victim fails to cooperate?
