If someone should ask me, 'What does the soul do?' I would say, It does two things. It loves. And it creates. Those are its primary acts.
It was as if someone had taken a tiny bead of pure life and decking it as lightly as possible with down and feathers, had set it dancing and zigzagging to show us the true nature of life.
Why help make big companies bigger when you can get the same thing from the little guy and actually help someone accomplish their dream?
I spent the rest of the day in someone else's story. The rare moments that I put the book down, my own pain returned in burning stabs.
There. We can be friends now." "Someone like you could never be my friend." "Why ever not?" "Because I'm a nice person, and you're a sick, twisted bitch.
Money is seen as a great evil. But I've never seen a pile of cash stab someone.
People are often dismissive of librarians and libraries....But isn't that where the best stories are kept? Hidden away on the library bookshelves, lost and forgotten, waiting, waiting, until someone like me comes along, and wants to borrow them.
If you think that you are the only one who is right then please consult someone; If you believe that you are right then dont't seek self approval... before that learn to discriminate between a thought and a belief...
In order to spend out our time (life) we sell some of this time. We work for someone, we labour. In freedom we do slavery.
The word 'experienced' often refers to someone who's gotten away with doing the wrong thing more frequently than you have.
There is no talking rationally, using logic or facts, with someone under the spell of the psychic epidemic, as their ability to reason and to use discernment has been disabled and distorted in service to the psychic pathogen which they carry.
It's an innocent kiss at first. Soft lips meeting; a gentle pressure that creates a slow burn. The type of kiss you give to someone that means something. This isn't the type of kiss to be wasted on me.
I think Wordsworth was as surprised to see me as I was him. It can't be usual to go to your favorite memory only to find someone already there, admiring the view ahead of you.
She understood she was far from perfect, but to even imagine that Jesus could step off the throne of heaven to die for someone so small and full of sin, it was hard to understand
I was learning that when you're with someone who is dying, you may need to celebrate the past, live the present, and mourn the future all at the same time.
Feathers filled the small room. Our laughter kept the feathers in the air. I thought about birds. Could they fly is there wasn't someone, somewhere, laughing?
Someone has said that culture is what remains with you after you have forgotten all you have read, and I believe there is much truth in that.
Loss taught me. It taught me that I won’t have people around me forever. The good I need to do to someone today, I may not have the opportunity to do tomorrow.
Imperfection is simply not a good enough excuse to have someone keep hurting you just because they feel like it.
I guess by now I should know enough about loss to realize that you never really stop missing someone-you just learn to live around the huge gaping hole of their absence.
If you loved someone, you couldn’t let lies come between you. No matter what happened—even if you’d already lost each other forever—you owed each other the truth.
