As long as you're true to you, you believe it and you make others believe it, then what you're doing is just art. If you give everybody a blank canvas and some paint, not everybody's picture is going to be exactly the same, but it's still art. I just...
I love rock-n-roll. I think it's an exciting art form. It's revolutionary. Still revolutionary and it changed people. It changed their hearts. But yeah, even rock-n-roll has a lot of rubbish, really bad music.
Color is everywhere, so everything has changed. I still can't see color, but I can perceive it. I can experience it in a way that allows me to be a part of this reality, which I was excluded from before. Thanks to the eyeborg, I've made a career by c...
I never had the exposure to techniques and so forth that children have today with art workshops, but I always had crayons and pencils and still have work going right back to when I was five or six years old.
But still," Ayumi said, "it seems to me that this world has a serious shortage of both logic and kindness." "You may be right," Aomame said, "But it's too late to trade it in for another one.
In the stillness of headstones, Darkness is my blanket. And forever is my song. In the arms if stone angels, I'm not afraid. Because finally and completely, I belong.
And tell them all about the books you've read. Better still, buy some more books and read them. That's an order. You can never read too many books.
This is not a contest with your child. The winner is not the one with more points. The winner is the one whose child still loves them when they graduate from high school.
I was still madly in love with her when I left her but the desire had died, and not all the years of sharing and caring and discovering and journeying could keep me from fleeing.
If I never got to make a living doing what I loved, I'd still do it--for fun and for free.
I will die the way I learned to live. Fully aware. At peace. With a heart so full of love that even as it slows, it is still full. Because I know something the Scientists refuse to acknowledge. Death is only the beginning.
…the longer I think about it the more it seems to me that we who are still alive are unreal in the eyes of the dead, that only occasionally, in certain lights and atmospheric conditions, do we appear in their field of vision.
He flipped back the covers. “Come here, I want to show you something.” She raised a brow impishly, “You still have moves I haven’t seen? Impressive.
Even the water, grey and listless as it tossed against the harbour wall, seemed fixed in time; as if peering hard enough into its depths would reveal the tips of Peter’s fingers, himself still swaying underwater, cradled in the sea’s mouth.
I will come back to you, I swear I will; And you will know me still. I shall be only a little taller Than when I went.
Now I know it’s because somewhere in my mind, I still harboured hatred and fear for that man, so it was just easier to erect the brick wall and never look back.
Still shuddering, he collapsed atop her on a long, strangled groan. It sounded as if someone had just wrung out his soul. Ella knew precisely how he felt.
The sun stopped shining for me is all. The whole story is: I am sad. I am sad all the time and the sadness is so heavy that I can't get away from it. Not ever.
My best friend is dead, and I could have saved her. It’s so wrong so completely and painfully wrong, that I walked through my front door tonight smiling.
I was such a quiet kid, so shy and calm and in my own head. Of course I knew about being sad. Maybe that's the reason I saved all the things I thought were pretty.
One of the gravestones in the cemetery near the earliest church has an anchor on it and an hourglass, and the words In Hope. In Hope. Why did they put that above a dead person? Was it the corpse hoping, or those still alive?