Sometimes he’d dream of hunting for Adam the Usurper twenty years in the future, or of Doctor Simmons sending Aero to burrow into his head and steal his most secret thoughts and desires.
I saw that he was looking anxious. 'I thought you weren't coming.' As he spoke, he grasped my hand. And if the sight of him had not quite restored the magic, the touch of him most certainly did. 'You're not wishing yourself some place else, Mary?
If others benefit through you getting what you desire most, it will have a positive impact on the world and only then will every atom of your being work with the universe to help it come into fruition.
If you keep your head screwed on right in so doing, then your experience thus gained is most valuable in enabling you to gauge human beings and their ways. (Advice in letter from 8th Duke of Rutland, to his son later the 9th Duke.
Seemingly minor yet persistent things penetrate the mind over time making it difficult to ever realize the impact; hence, though quite unfortunate, the most dangerous forms of corruption are those that are subtle and below the radar.
Paradox is beloved of novelists. The despised savior, the humane whore, the selfish man suddenly munificent, the wise fool, and the cowardly hero. Most writers spend their lives writing about unexpected malice in the supposedly virtuous, and unexpect...
A glad zest and hopefulness might be inspired even in the most jaded and ennui-cursed, were there in our homes such simple, truthful natures as that of my heroine, and it is in the sphere of quiet homes—not elsewhere—I believe that a woman can be...
Common sense is not a single unique conception, identical in time and space. It is the "folklore" of philosophy, and, like folklore, it takes countless different forms. Its most fundamental character is that it is a conception which, even in the brai...
People should think that being a writer is cool. Even if you’re just a starving writer. Besides, most great writers were starving at one point or another. It comes with the title.
A few of us are extraverts. A few of us are introverts. But most of us are ambiverts, sitting near the middle, not the edges, happily attuned to those around us. In some sense, we are born to sell.
He didn't know Rachel very well, but assumed her behavior would be similar to most women he encountered. As soon as he stepped foot inside she would attack, not allowing him to get in a word. At least that was what he imagined.
The subconscious mind is actively maneuvering in the background to select the activities that will move you closest to the reality that is most consistent with your deeper self-concept. So to achieve wealth, power, fame, romance or peace, you must en...
Most people live life backwards. They party and kill time in their youth, when they’re strong and have the energy to accomplish great things. And then they’re older, they try to get things done, but they have less energy and enthusiasm by that ti...
The truest art I would strive for in any work would be to give the page the same qualities as earth: weather would land on it harshly; light would elucidate the most difficult truths; wind would sweep away obtuse padding.
I only have so much willpower, Helen," he whispered. "And since you apparently sleep in the most ridiculously transparent tank top I've ever seen, I'm going to have to ask you to get under the covers before I do something stupid.
You lie like butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, Edward." He smiled. "I don't lie to you." "Really," I said. The smile became a grin. "Okay, not most of the time, anymore." His face sobered. "I'm not lying now.
And you never fall behind?” “Of course I do. But I always feel guilty when that happens. After all, my journal is the oldest and most loyal friend I have. And it never interrupts me when I’m speaking,” he added, with a boyish grin.
Most of us tend to belittle all suffering except our own," said Mary. "I think it's fear. We don't want to come too near in case we're sucked in and have to share it.
The human race is a monotonous affair. Most people spend the greatest part of their time working in order to live, and what little freedom remains so fills them with fear that they seek out any and every means to be rid of it.
The drive was strangely calm. Deathly calm. Dark, light …. dark, light …. dark again as we glided under repeat street lighting. Four men sitting silently in four leather seats. Could hear the creaks. The smallest sounds are the most terrifying.
Just handle what's in front of you now. and the future will take care of itself. Otherwise, you'll spend most of your life wondering which foot you'll use to step off the curb when you're still only halfway to the corner.
