Strange how we decorate pain. These ribbons, for instance, and the small hard teardrops of blood. Who are they for? Do we think the dead care?
Depression was like wearing tinted glasses and looking through them changed one's perception dramatically. A fancy new house could be construed as a bunch of boards nailed together.
...Night has chosen thee; thy death will be thy birth. Night calls to thee; harken to Her sweet voice. Your destiny awaits you at the House of Night.
Why are my sons followed thus by darkness?' ...'Because they were born in the house of flesh, therefore death follows at their heels.
Do not economize on the hymeneal rites; do not prune them of their splendor, nor split farthings on the day when you are radiant. A wedding is not house-keeping.
Change was not something you waited for, quietly, mutely, in a house by the ocean, nothing would ever change unless we forced it into shape.
It was an awkward moment. We were burning down our host's house, a situation which any guest seeks to avoid.
All unbelievers in Jesus Christ is a House Divided Against Itself; it cannot stand against Jesus Christ.
People come in my house and say, “I like this.” I say, “Do you want it?” Isn’t that the Christian thing to do?
And Marianne, who had the knack of finding her way in every house to the library, however it might be avoided by the family in general, soon procured herself a book.
If God closes a door AND a window, consider the fact that it might be time to build a whole new house.
Marianne, who had the knack of finding her way in every house to the library, however it might be avoided by the family in general, soon procured herself a book.
If you can be quiet, you’re more than welcome to stay in my House of Silence. Bring your own bubblegum ice cream.
Winter is coming, warned the Stark words, and truly it had come to them with a vengeance. But it is high summer for House Lannister. So why am I so bloody cold?
It was a good day to die.I was in love. The house was clean
Living in a galaxy is like living in a neighborhood where the house down the street might have burned down four thousand years ago but you wouldn't know it for another three thousand years.
You're a stalker with hooves." "I am not! I followed her to the Big House and hid in a bush and watched the whole thing.
But it turns out Joy is a house built from the same bricks as Sorrow. Pleasure is a poem, and it uses the same words as Pain.
You can't come in, colonel," she told him. "You may be in command of your war, but I'm in command of my house.
I heard my grandfathers voice. What do they think-- the storms will never come? You build a house on the sand, the sand shifts eventually... Remember that.
The point is, Jenna, no one is normal or perfect like that house you see across the street. Everyone suffers from their own struggles, whether they’re big or small.
