Books are funny little portable pieces of thought.
Everything is a piece of me, a moment of my life.
You're not a piece of nothing, but the all of everything.
We can bomb the world to pieces, but we can't bomb it into peace.
They looked at each other. They weren't thinking anymore. The time for that had come and gone. Smashed smiles lay ahead of them. But that would be later. Lay Ter.
They only asked for punishments that fitted their crimes. Not ones that came like cupboards with built-in bedrooms. Not ones you spent your whole life in, wandering through its maze of shelves.
To understand history,' Chacko said, 'we have to go inside and listen to what they're saying. And look at the books and the pictures on the wall. And smell the smells.
Who will you make happy at work today? What will you do? Remember – really small things can have a huge effect.
People fear anyone who differs from what is considered normal, and in a small town the idea of normal can be as narrow as the streets.
We need to keep government small, but we also need to keep the influence of big business small, and we need to keep the power in the hands of the people, where it belongs. Big government and big business aren’t the only two alternatives.
Childhood is such a delicate tissue; what they had done this morning could snag somewhere in the little ones, make a dull, small pain that will circle back again and again, and hurt them in small ways for the rest of their lives.
I could burn this place down As many times as I'd like in my mind, Without any sympathy For the girl or her mother Who live beneath me
And y'know what they decided the number one threat was? The destructive and disruptive capability of a small group. That's what they're worried about most...they're terrified of a small group with a committed goal.
To be terrified and yet unafraid seems a great paradox of worship, but when one has tasted it, the notion of an eternity spent terrifyingly unafraid like that is remarkably appetizing.
... and all we knew about her that we didn't know the night before was that she had eyes like pansies and skin like the moon.
We are so small; and what must one hold on to when one no longer recognizes one's own hands, nor one's step, nor even the small dose of everyday despair.
If you wanted candles and romantic music, then you wouldn’t have chosen me.” “Maybe I didn’t choose,” she dared. “Maybe it just happened.
As my father always used to tell me, 'You see, son, there's always someone in the world worse off than you.' And I always used to think, 'So?
We pray for the big things and forget to give thanks for the ordinary, small (and yet really not small) gifts.
Successful prospecting depends on selecting methods that you can effectively navigate. If something makes you uncomfortable, please don't do it.
If you will stay close to nature, to its simplicity, to the small things hardly noticeable, those things can unexpectedly become great and immeasurable.
