The women I know with strong personalities, the ones who might have become generals or the heads of companies if they were men, become teachers. Teaching is a calling, too. And I've always thought that teachers in their way are holy--angles leading t...
People talk about the joy of running--of the endorphins and reaching a Zen-like clarity of mind. This had never happened to me. Mostly, all I thought about when I ran was how much further I had to go before I could stop.
Everyone has to die at some point, so the thought of passing on together while holding hands with my one true love has always sounded like an amazing fairy tale. It reminds me of the old Shakespearean play Romeo and Juliet, and of the powerful love t...
The afterlife is mostly a dream state where you confront the good and evil within you. The text repeatedly explains that the images the deceased sees and the sounds one hears are hallucinations created by one's own thoughts.
I went to work, but the mood of the book would not die; it lingered, coloring everything I saw, heard, did. I now felt that I knew what the white man were feeling. Merely because I had read a book that had spoken of how they lived and thought, I iden...
We try so hard because it is all we've ever known, I thought. We try to fit ourselves into this world so that we don't seem more different than different, an oddity in a sea of normality. We try because it is only instinct, but we obey because it is ...
I thought about how, at twenty-six, I shouldn’t have to floss yet, who wants to be bothered! I didn’t even have the energy left over for flossing. I mean, how many things was I supposed to do? Flossing should only be done by people in their forti...
You wish that you could go to sleep and have your last thought be anything but the buttery light of the New Mexico moon sneaking in through the cracks of an old barn's walls. If there is one thing this world as taught me, it's that Secrets should sta...
But maybe that isn't possible. Maybe the mind of the majority is always the healthy mind, simply by virtue of its numbers. Maybe it's the definition of madness to believe I'm right and everyone else if wrong, to find my thoughts rational and reasonab...
I can handle Glory." "Can you?" Eve asked. "Because I notice you never call her Gloriana. Just Glory." He shut up. Which is probably about the only smart thing he can do, Claire thought.
I don’t understand you, Pigeon. I thought I knew women, but you’re so fucking confusing I don’t know which way is up.” “I don’t understand you, either. You’re supposed to be Eastern’s ladies’ man. I’m not getting the full freshmen...
She was beginning to have that feeling that comes after midnight, of one's thoughts opening out, flowering, groping out loud for some new discovery, some new truth that is really as old as all the hundreds of years girls have been confiding to one an...
...I've never really had a party before." "Why did you have one now?" I say, just to keep him talking. He gives a half laugh. "I thought if I had a party, you would come.
Just because you…achieve what you always thought would make you feel special does not fix that deep-down internal insecurity. External achievement never equals internal acceptance.
And it’s thought by many neuroscientists such as Rodolfo Llinas of New York University that such goal-directed active movement, a biological property known as “motricity,” is a requirement for the development of the nervous system.
Ivy returned his direct gaze with a particularly innocent smile. "The great advantage," she said, "of being thought silly, is that people forget and begin to think one might also be foolish. I may, Professor Lyall, be a trifle enthusiastic in my mann...
Some words were made up without any thought given. Nice is one of them. Nice has no meaning. Nice gets thrown out there to replace something meaningful. Take Goodreads and turn it into Nicereads. This goes to show that nice provides no justice.
It's funny. Looking back, none of it seems to matter now, those moments of yearning, craving to belong with people I thought mattered. No more fragments of glass, pieces of a broken mirror you can't put back together and wouldn't want to even if you ...
What is there left to understand? Choice is an illusion. Freedom is conceit. The hands that reach out to guide your every step, your every thought, come not from the gods, for they are no less deluded than we - no, my friends, those hands come to eac...
Couldn’t you hypnotize her or something?" "It doesn’t work like that." "I thought vampires were all sex gods with the ladies." Cade looked at him. "What gave you that idea?" "Uh ... late-night TV, mostly ..." "Humans are our food. Do you want to ...
We can retreat and retreat and let ourselves get backed into corners forever,” she’d said once. “Or we can go out and meet the enemy at the time and place we choose. Not them.” Okay, Tasha, I thought. Let’s see if your advice gets me killed...
