We must come together in ways that respect the solitude of the soul that avoid the unconscious violence we do when we try to save each other that evoke our capacity to hold another life without dishonoring its mystery never trying to coerce the other...
Before you tell your life what you intend to do with it, listen for what it intends to do with you. Before you tell your life what truths and values you have decided to live up to, let your life tell you what truths you embody, what values you repres...
Y’all might as well come on out,” I said. “I know you’re there. I can smell you.” “Smell me? But I just took a shower this morning!” an indignant voice drifted out of the shadows. There was a loud sound, like someone was getting smacked...
No recorded vision is perfect, of high visions, for the seer must keep either his physical organs or his memory in working order. And neither is capable. There is no bridge. One can only be conscious of one thing at a time, and as the consciousness m...
I felt his voice. Fingers rubbing moss. Smoke curling. Wood worn and smoothed over time. His voice had darkness in it that hovered close to the ground, like a mist hanging over a lake deep in a forest at dusk. A bolt of sea-green velvet. A sensation ...
It's only a heartache. It isn't a tragedy. A tragedy would be losing the father of my children to cancer. This I wrestle with the hardest. There are thirty-one flavors of pain, like Baskin Robbins in hell. Am I allowed to feel pain at a breakup? When...
Wait.” Stefan’s voice was hard suddenly. Bonnie and Elena turned back and froze, embracing each other, trembling. “What is your—your father—going to do to you when he finds out that you allowed this?” "He will not kill me,” Sage said br...
I won't tell you that the world matters nothing, or the world's voice, or the voice of society. They matter a good deal. They matter far too much. But there are moments when one has to choose between living one's own life, fully, entirely, completely...
Still the voices of your critics. Listen intently to your own voice, to the person who knows you best. Then answer these questions: Do you think you should move ahead? How will you feel if you quit pursuing this thing you want to do? And what does yo...
I heard the voice of that bird, son of Polypas, whose piercing outcry and whose arrival announces to men the season when fields are plowed, and the voice of her broke the heart that darkens within me, since other men posess my flourishing acres now, ...
When it comes to the form the narrative will take, whether first person, third person, or Aunt Grace's cat, I usually find that the story tells me which voice it prefers, and that often changes as I go along. And in the end it really doesn't matter a...
It is your personal story that makes you relatable. Not assigning judgment, or pressing blame. Your story, wrapped in God, around his Word, and what he has done in your life will safely lead women home.
There are those times we are afraid of the dark, but our fears don't mean there is actually danger. God is in the darkness with us, and He can see. His very presence illuminates the dark, driving it out.
I want to be that woman . . . the one who, yes, may have been hurt, but because You {God} reworked her heart she stands whole. Emotionally whole. Free.
The truth of God's Word cuts through the good and bad of our lives like a trowel digging up hard-to-remove weeds without damaging the plant.
How do you know if your inner voice or sense of guidance is your deeper-self speaking its wisdom, your unconscious childhood programming, or the voice of your Aunt Matilda? Discerning the difference between an automatic response stemming from family ...
Beetlejuice: I gotta card around here, somewhere. Here, here. Who do I have to kill? Here hold that for me, would ya? [hands Barbara a rat] Barbara: Whoa! AHH! Beetlejuice: There. There ya go. Adam: You don't have to kill anybody! Beetlejuice: Ah, po...
Aurore Interligator: They talk to me about you. Robert Kube: Who? Aurore Interligator: The voices in my head. Robert Kube: Of course, the voices. What do they say? Aurore Interligator: Let me think... They speak in such a way... Robert Kube: [expecta...
[first lines] Brian: [narration voice-over] The summer I was 8 years old, five hours disappeared from my life. Five hours. Lost. Gone without a trace. Brian: [narration voice-over] Last thing I remember I was sitting on the bench at my Little League ...
I believe that when the last ding-dong of doom has clanged and faded from the last worthless rock hanging tideless in the last red and dying evening, that even then there will still be one more sound: that of man's puny, inexhaustible, voice still ta...
However, Hardy's relationship with nature is a dialectical one. While he indicates that he recognizes how human perception shapes nature, he nevertheless accepts nature as possessed of its own agency, as working through its cycle regardless of human ...
