A vampire?” Lucy hissed incredulously, leaning away from him and wondering if maybe this was all just a prank. Or a dream. She was more than willing to revisit that theory. “I thought vampires drink blood, not eat your face.
Why is it, I wonder, that people suffer, when there is so little need, when an effort of will and some hard work would bring them from their misery into peace and contentment.
And suddenly, as if her head had cleared, she was quite sure that wonderful things did indeed exist. Even if they’re only in my own mind, she thought, they’re there and worth fighting for. I mustn’t give in.
I wonder whether there is such a thing as a sense of individuality. Is it all a facade, covering a deep need to belong? Are we simply pack animals desperately trying to pretend we are not?
When I think of existence, I cannot help but wonder, "What is life, anyway?" Where do I fit in the grand scheme of life? What is the point of it, anyway? Is this a test—and if so, am I passing it?
Few people are interested in a religion that has nothing to say to the world and offers them only life after death, when what people are really wondering is whether there is life before death.
Of all the wonders that I have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come. (Act II, Scene 2)
The train blows, just when I was forgetting. Forgetting that I am here alone. And I wonder if those cars got held up by its passing, just as I have yours.
Perhaps the most terrible (or wonderful) thing that can happen to an imaginative youth, aside from the curse (or blessing) of imagination itself, is to be exposed without preparation to the life outside his or her own sphere - the sudden revelation t...
This is love, I think. A place where people who have been alone may lock together like hawks and spin in the air, dizzy with surprise at the connection. A place you go willingly, and with wonder
When it comes to judging individuals, I do not like remarks such as 'too good to be true.' They speak as though one is rewarding the nature of evil. Yet, ironically, we still wonder where all the good people have gone.
People have wanted to narrate since first we banged rocks together & wondered about fire. There’ll be tellings as long as there are any of us here, until the stars disappear one by one like turned-out lights.
It is a strange and wonderful and somewhat embarrassing feeling to hold someone in your arms who is trying to detach you from the earth and you aren't good enough to follow her.
Can you see the power emotion has to distort out outlook? Makes you wonder, did you have a bad day, or did you make it a bad day?
I’m standing here on a deserted road on a cold night, wondering how something so beautiful could go so incredibly wrong. My name is Christian Castro and this is the story of how I lost it all.
We cannot spend our entire week in pursuit of the world and then wonder why our worship on Sunday feels flat.
For some reason I believed that if you fell in love it was a guaranteed thing that your path would cross with his, and I never wondered how if would feel to fall in love with a man whose future just couldn't include you.
Often I've wondered what it would feel like to be him," he whispered softly. "To feel the warmth of your skin under my cold hand or your hot breath on my lips. These last few days have been torment on my curiosity.
When you meet the person you're supposed to be with for the rest of your life, they make you whole. They're your other half. Yes, life can be good, but once you meet your other half, it's fucking wonderful.
...being able to listen to unrepeatable secrets, wishes, and desires wasn't as wonderful as it seemed...being aware of what other people felt at every moment would come to cause him a lot of headaches, and huge disappointments in love.
I wonder whether my love would be divided up more between him and Mama if I'd had him for longer, but I don't think so. I think we stretch out forever in our hearts.
