#arrow

The realm of immediate or personal knowledge is a narrow circle in which these bodies move; the realm of knowledge derived through faith is as wide as the universe, and old as eternity. ↗

— Matthew Simpson

#circle #derived #eternity #faith #immediate

I search his eyes for the slightest sign of anything, fear, remorse, anger. But there's only the same look of amusement that ended our last conversation. It's as if he's speaking the words again. "Oh, my dear Miss Everdeen. I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other." He's right. We did. The point of my arrow shifts upward. I release the string. And President Coin collapses over the side of the balcony and plunges to the ground. Dead. ↗

— Suzanne Collins

#book #coin #collins #dead #end

The raw and natural sounds of Aero music don't subtract from it's beauty, instead it creates a rich soundscape for the musician to create within. ↗

— Jim O Rourke

#aerow #arrow #music #natural #sound

The watchful Mishmorat commented as she waited. “Your people are so bare—so pale and plain.” “Oh?” Eena turned her head towards Niki, zeroing in on her long spotted arms. Their skin was arguably more striking—darker, artistic, with varied patterns and rich color. “I’m sorry,” the Mishmorat quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just I’ve never seen such unblemished skin before. There’s nothing to look at.” Eena quickly pulled the new t-shirt down over her bare back. She chuckled at Niki’s comment. “I’ll admit your people are very beautiful, much more interesting to gaze at. But, I’m okay with my ‘plainness’.” Eena contemplated her own pale legs as she pulled the clean pants over them. “You’re kinda like a clear, cloudless sky,” Niki said, cocking her head wonderingly. “And you’re like…..a beautiful sky dotted with shapely clouds.” “Only dark clouds.” “Storm clouds.” “Yeah,” Niki grinned devilishly, “That’s me—a storm cloud. ↗

— Richelle E. Goodrich

#mishmorat #niki #richelle #richelle-goodrich #the-harrowbethian-saga

Cabal regarded her with mild amusement. “Smile when you whisper,” he advised her. “You’re supposed to be flirting with me, if you recall?” She stared at him icily. Then suddenly her expression thawed and she smiled winsomely, her eyes dewy with romantic love. “Oh, sweetheart… somebody tried to kill you? Whosoever would do such a thing to my nimpty-bimpty snookums?” Cabal could not have been more horrified if she’d pulled off her face to reveal a gaping chasm of eternal night from which glistening tentacles coiled and groped. That had already happened to him once in his life, and he wasn’t keen to repeat the experience. “What?” he managed in a dry whisper. “Smile when you whisper,” she said, her expression fixed and blood-curdlingly coquettish. You’re supposed to be flirting with me, remember?” “Please don’t do that. ↗

— Jonathan L. Howard

#jonathan-l-howard #leonie-barrow #experience

If I had thought the beef marrow might be a hell of a lot of work for not much difference, I needn’t have worried. The taste of the marrow is rich, meaty, intense in a nearly-too-much way. In my increasingly depraved state, I could think of nothing at first but that it tasted like really good sex. But there was something more than that, even. What it really tastes like is life, well lived. Of course the cow I got marrow from had a fairly crappy life – lots of crowds and overmedication and bland food that might or might not have been a relative. But deep in his or her bones, there was a capacity for feral joy. I could taste it. ↗

— Julie Powell

#cooking #cows #food #life #marrow

Stop categorizing and labeling! This is your way to avoid the unknown but brings the risk to avoid the new! ↗

— Rossana Condoleo

#inspirational-quotes #leadership-development #life-coaching #narrowmindedness #inspirational