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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #cast
Love is a soft whisper coming from the beating one's heart. It's gentle rhythm gives you a feeling of ecstasy you cannot readily fathom for it's not easily defined nor there are finite reasons as to why it is felt by someone. ↗
Hey!” Mena exclaimed “Don’t knock Jeopardy. I love that show” “So do I” Max admitted. “I like it when I know the answers.” Logan added. Trent turned to Logan, “Dude, if you hate the show, all you had to do was say so. ↗
I uttered his name like a silent whisper of the falling rain - saying love is his game as the cool breeze sets in."- Elizabeth's Shorter Poems ↗
#love #short-poems #whisper #love
You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices. I hope she like hers. ↗
The Castle. He’d seen this expression far too many times during their marriage. The Castle was Bryony drawing up the gates and retreating deep into the inner keep. And he’d always hated it. Marriage meant that you shared your goddamn castle. You didn’t leave your poor knight of a husband circling the walls trying to find a way in. ↗
Let us agree that we are marrying so we can go on quarreling in the greatest comfort and convenience. Oh, please, Althea, look at me. Do say yes. ↗
Our Father who art in nature, who has given the gift of survival to the coyote, the common brown rat, the English sparrow, the house fly and the moth, must have a great and overwhelming love for no-goods and blots-on-the-town and bums, and Mack and the boys. Virtues and graces and laziness and zest. Our Father who art in nature. ↗
But I wasn't happy... when I heard you two had assaulted Castle Macindaw with just thirty men,' [said Halt]. 'Thirty-three,' mumbled Horace... The Ranger gave him a withering look. 'Oh, pardon me... three more men does make a lot of difference. ↗
But neither could compare with the gargantuan natural edifice that was the mountain upon which Nachtstürm Castle rose. It was a mountain made of the darkness between two lightning bolts. It was made less of earth than Stygian frost. Whole towns fell away as they ascended, as though the ranks of black and frowning conifers waged war against the humans below. Even the path – rather narrow and rarely straight – seemed less made by centuries of pilgrim feet and more by the trace of some careless demon’s claw. It was, in fact, perfect. ↗
