#am

Oliver: Fear is the natural state of anything that dies. ↗

— Rachel Caine

#last-breath #morganville-vampires #oliver #rachel-caine #nature

To know a thing well, know it's limits; Only when pushed beyond it's tolerance will it's true nature be seen. -The Amtal Rule ↗

— Frank Herbert

#nature

Seriously, I’m totally weirded out by the girly nature of this conversation. And yet, it’s kinda like you’re growing up. Do you think Judy Blume made a book about adolescent vampires? Are You There God, It’s Me, Merit?” Mallory snorted, obviously pleased with herself. ↗

— Chloe Neill

#friday-night-bites #vampire #nature

Green in nature is one thing, green in literature another. Nature and letters seem to have a natural antipathy; bring them together and they tear each other to pieces. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#drama #green #literature #nature #poetry

I would rather be a little nobody, then to be a evil somebody. ↗

— Abraham Lincoln

#bullying #character #moral-courage #courage

I have always believed that hope is that stubborn thing inside us that insists, despite all the evidence to the contrary, that something better awaits us so long as we have the courage to keep reaching, to keep working, to keep fighting." (Victory Speech, Nov. 7, 2012) ↗

— Barack Obama

#change #courage #hope #change

I wonder if people will ever say, "Let's hear about Frodo and the Ring." And they'll say, "Yes, that's one of my favorite stories. Frodo was really courageous, wasn't he, Dad?" "Yes, m'boy, the most famousest of hobbits. And that's saying a lot. ↗

— J.R.R. Tolkien

#lord-of-the-rings #middle-earth #sam-gamgee #tolkien #courage

Vaguely conscious of that great suspense in which we live, we find our escape from its sterile, annihilating reality in many dreams, in religion, passion, art. ↗

— Arthur Symons

#dreams #escape #religion #suspense #throbbing-gristle

Flow gently, sweet Afton, amang thy green braes, Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise; My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream. Thou stock dove whose echo resounds thro' the glen, Ye wild whistly blackbirds in yon thorny den, Thou green crested lapwing thy screaming forbear, I charge you, disturb not my slumbering fair. How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighboring hills, Far mark'd with the courses of clear winding rills; There daily I wander as noon rises high, My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye. How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, Where, wild in the woodlands, the primroses blow; There oft, as mild evening weeps over the lea, The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me. Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides, And winds by the cot where my Mary resides; How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave, As, gathering sweet flowerets, she stems thy clear wave. Flow gently, sweet Afton, amang thy green braes, Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays; My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dreams. ↗

— Robert Burns

#nature #poetry #dreams

That part of his body was simply uncontrollable, apparently functioning in accordance to a single law of nature: She existed--he got a hard-on. ↗

— Karen Marie Moning

#gabby #karen-marie-moning #the-immortal-highlander #nature