Seeing each choice as a kind of energy can empower us. To say "yes" might feel like a dripping faucet. To say "no" might feel like a playful puppy. In feeling the energy, we get to choose beyond what is expected and routine.
It has always been a happy thought to me that the creek runs on all night, new every minute, whether I wish it or know it or care, as a closed book on a shelf continues to whisper to itself its own inexhaustible tale.
You look incredible, Kavanagh,” Quinn whispered close to my ear. “Are you trying to kill me?” “Ssshhh,” I hissed. “They’re going to hear you.” “I can’t tell my date she’s beautiful?” I turned my head. “No. No, you can’t.
To touch a person...to sleep with a person...is to become a pioneer," she whispered then, "a frontiersman at the edge of their private world, the strange, incomprehensible world of their interior, filled with customs you could never imitate, a langua...
Faythe…?" The tremor in his voice broke my heart. Then understanding surfaced, and his tear-filled eyes searched mine desperately. "No. No," he whispered through clenched teeth. "This was not wrong. It’s the only thing I’ve done right in months...
We stood as the ground shifted and we saw the view from below through tiled floors and concrete stairs, our feet burning holes in the foundation while you whispered of dreams.
Lucifer spoke thus. Pride took him from heaven, though he sat at God's right hand.' Her voice grew faint, the hint of a whisper. 'In the end pride is the only evil, the root of all sins.' 'Pride is all I have.
Think how you love me," she whispered. "I don’t ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside me there’ll always be the person I am to-night.
-Back there our sun doesn't speak. -Where's "there," Miss Marta? -Back there, in Europe. Here, it's different. Here, the sun moans, whispers, shouts. -Surely-I commented delicately-the sun is always the same. - You're wrong. There, the sun is a stone...
it is to be savored like a seabreeze-whispered dream...in the mysterious blue minutes before dawn like a secret infatuation.... like slow languorous sips of green tea... like a lingering glimpse a self-wrapped paradise like his name upon my lips.
When a whisper seems like a shout, I know I need to get some sleep. But I can’t lay down without first taking off my bunny ears.
And me, standing under the splintered night, catching fractured glimpses into the black behind the black, hearing the prayers of stars, the angry whispers of the dark summer night. Its voice cracks, on your name. My eyes close, on your name.
And the way it felt?" I whisper, as if that might soften the blow of embarrassment I'm about to deal. "Is that how you were feeling - how you feel - about me?" A breeze comes off the ocean, and my skin feels strangely empty and open as he gives an al...
You're amazing," she whispered hoarsely. He pushed back the hair from her face. "You too." "How? All I do is let you play me like a piano." He chuckled. "You've got a great keyboard.
Silence wrapped around us as time itself held its breath, quietly coaxing us to that secret place of sighs and whispers where we might just lose ourselves completely and truly find each other." - William Rolfe A Vampire's Dominion
Then, in a whisper, Sam said, “I met someone else.” Just like that, Darcy's world melted and distorted into something she no longer recognized. His words hung like poison in the air, and she held her breath, afraid to breathe it in.
This is how social change ultimately happens: enlightened values do not change behavior; the contours of self-interest are altered and new values rush into the vacuum.
Be within your heart. See and feel with your heart. Recognize your heart within another. Speak words from the heart. Receive the words of another, within those precious chambers.
...it reminded me of the blood that runs through me, blessed and chosen by God to survive all and whatever comes my way. I remember when I hold it that I have the strength of the Lord on my side, and I can survive...All and whatever.
Badreya whispered in her ear, “The price of freedom is high, Bodour, and there is no writing without freedom. Break your chains, Bodour, break free of your prison and reach out for the forbidden tree. If you eat from it, you will not die, for knowl...
I became quite taken over by Johnson's personality at some points while writing the biography, and since I went straight on to The Closed Circle afterwards, I did sometimes feel I could hear him whispering in my ear while I was working on it.
