If we possess narrative sympathy - enabling us to see the world from other's point of view - we cannot kill. If we do not, we cannot love.
Everyone has a story; everyone hides his past as a means of self-preservation. Some just do it better, and more thoroughly, than others.
People are wonderful. Each one has a story, each something to give, each knows something interesting, something that can make your life richer.
If you end your story, it's a static work of art, a finite circle. But if you don't, it belongs to anyone's imagination. It stays alive forever.
Our story has been told, our song has been sung. You're a road I’ve already traveled, and from it, I have moved on. "Already Traveled
The Bible just said ‘Thou shalt not kill’, then told hundreds of stories of people killing each other and becoming heroes, like David with Goliath.
If there is a fundamental challenge within these stories, it is simply to change our lurking suspicion that some lives matter less than other lives.
The world is dark, and light is precious. Come closer, dear reader. You must trust me. I am telling you a story.
Matt was the antidote to fear and trepidation. It was as if he’d become so acquainted with death that he could sit in its lap and ask it to tell him bedtime stories.
Man, Sub-creator, the refracted Light through whom is splintered from a single White to many hues, and endlessly combined in living shapes that move from mind to mind.
It was such a feeling of developing your inner self to the people who liked to dig deeper and deeper until you cannot fathom the deepest evil in you.
...The human mind is a complicated place...We hold on to things, images, words, ideas, histories that we don't even know we're holding on to.
We're so young. We can't, we MUST not loose this sense of possibility because in the end, it's all we have.
Relationship gurus always said that an attraction based on friendship and mutual respect was far more likely to stay the course - and the bastards were right.
This is how most stories end in the hospital. Not with crash carts and sirens and electric shocks to the chest, but with an empty room, a crisp white bed, silence.
This is the time to remember that I’m the protagonist in my own story, facing every challenge with grace and wit.
The nutcracker sits under the holiday tree, a guardian of childhood stories. Feed him walnuts and he will crack open a tale...
Living is worth the effort if only because without life we could not read or imagine stories.
One minute I was playing chess and doing maths all the time, the next I had been rerouted into more 'normal' girls' activities: reading, writing stories and worrying about my clothes.
And the worst thing was, there were no mirrors out there in the wild, so the princess was left wondering whether she in fact was still beautiful... or if the fall had changed the story completely.
I wrote a novel because I had a yen to do it. I believe this is sufficient reason to set out to tell a story.