No subscription or hidden extras
Read through the most famous quotes by topic #age
The woman who undergoes this operation can sense the morphogenetic field at work in her face. She can feel the lines of force as they guide the embryonic cells into the patterns they must form. Why should a woman let her life be determined by tired collagens or by a shortage of zinc which weakens her electromagnetic field, the matrix of life? The goal of life is living. Life is a field of opportunity, guiding the individual forward along paths created by the meshed forces or objective possibilities as they interweave with a person's own potentialities. And this philosophy of life is now bodied forth in the faces of beautiful women. ("Motherhood ↗
Hoy en día no nos damos cuenta que la cualidad única de una obra de arte no hay que buscarla en una idea concebida por acto de gracia e independiente de la experiencia de la naturaleza: en el arte convergen todas nuestras experiencias vividas, elaboradas y resumidas según los normales procesos imaginativos, salvo que lo que hace única la obra es el modo en el que esta elaboración se vuelve concreta y se ofrece a la percepción, a través de un proceso de interacción entre experiencia vivida, voluntad de arte y legalidad autónoma del material sobre el que se trabaja. ↗
You meet a new guy, analyze him, not good for marriage, not good for a relationship, not good for fucking, maybe excepting the very drunk mood, so, conclusion: this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. ↗
#conclusion #drunk #friendship #fucking #guy
May feel like you're fallin', Tabby, but remember, I'm at the bottom ready to catch you." At these beautiful words, I burst into tears again. Without hesitation, Shy yanked me back into his arms and held me. There it was. I'd reached bottom and I was crying , because I didn't realize it at the time, but he'd already caught me. And it felt beautiful! ↗
The chill, like scurrying spiders, worked deeper into him, weaving webs of ice in the hollows of his bones. ↗
The language I learned was pretty, full of passivity and silence. I had no proper language for the issues of blood and anger, yet much of what went on when I was a child made me angry. There were no words a nice girl could use to describe anger; her options were to remain silent or to use indiscreet language, the kind that curls in a room like smoke and soon disappears. We girls were taught to speak safely and to bandage our anger with polite, pretty words. We might talk about the anger only in questions and sighs, unable to curse, yell or break windows in the beautiful garden. ↗
