I don't correct her to let her know her backdoor wisdom yanks me deep into another country, where water runs uphill.
The story of terrorism is written by the state and it is therefore highly instructive… compared with terrorism, everything else must be acceptable, or in any case more rational and democratic.
The Law of Diminishing Returns is true of everything in life, except sex, which seems endlessly repeatable with effect.
It is simply wrong to begin with a theme, symbol or other abstract unifying agent, and then try to force characters and events to conform to it.
Maybe that was the best part. The beautiful peace that came with living her own story, knowing every turn of the page and tug of the heart was a new beginning.
If we possess narrative sympathy - enabling us to see the world from other's point of view - we cannot kill. If we do not, we cannot love.
Everyone has a story; everyone hides his past as a means of self-preservation. Some just do it better, and more thoroughly, than others.
People are wonderful. Each one has a story, each something to give, each knows something interesting, something that can make your life richer.
If you end your story, it's a static work of art, a finite circle. But if you don't, it belongs to anyone's imagination. It stays alive forever.
Our story has been told, our song has been sung. You're a road I’ve already traveled, and from it, I have moved on. "Already Traveled
The Bible just said ‘Thou shalt not kill’, then told hundreds of stories of people killing each other and becoming heroes, like David with Goliath.
If there is a fundamental challenge within these stories, it is simply to change our lurking suspicion that some lives matter less than other lives.
The world is dark, and light is precious. Come closer, dear reader. You must trust me. I am telling you a story.
Matt was the antidote to fear and trepidation. It was as if he’d become so acquainted with death that he could sit in its lap and ask it to tell him bedtime stories.
Man, Sub-creator, the refracted Light through whom is splintered from a single White to many hues, and endlessly combined in living shapes that move from mind to mind.
It was such a feeling of developing your inner self to the people who liked to dig deeper and deeper until you cannot fathom the deepest evil in you.
...The human mind is a complicated place...We hold on to things, images, words, ideas, histories that we don't even know we're holding on to.
We're so young. We can't, we MUST not loose this sense of possibility because in the end, it's all we have.
Relationship gurus always said that an attraction based on friendship and mutual respect was far more likely to stay the course - and the bastards were right.
This is how most stories end in the hospital. Not with crash carts and sirens and electric shocks to the chest, but with an empty room, a crisp white bed, silence.
This is the time to remember that I’m the protagonist in my own story, facing every challenge with grace and wit.
