#chapter

The Business of Our Firm is Business" -Donald W. Hudspeth from: "The Business of America is Business" -Calvin Coolidge ↗

— Calvin Coolidge

#business #business-advice #business-start-up #chapter #dispute

Those of us who do not live forever do not like change perhaps as much as those of you who do. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#change

Dispose of everything that was lost. There’s no time to dream about something that won’t come back. I must look forward. Forward… ↗

— Tite Kubo

#chapter- #dreams

It's too late!" I cried "I thought that once, too. But it's never too late. You taught me that. Love can make us eternal.” Phoenix’s eyes closed, haunted to the end. “I'm sorry,” were his last words. "I forgive you,” I sobbed, gripping onto him desperately. “I forgive you.” It was too late. All. Too. Late. ↗

— Jessica Shirvington

#jessica-shirvington #phoenix #the-embrace-series #the-violet-eden-chapters #violet

For we have thought the longer thoughts And gone the shorter way. And we have danced to devils' tunes, Shivering home to pray; To serve one master in the night, Another in the day. ↗

— Ernest Hemingway

#home

Either you go to America with Mrs. Van Hopper or you come home to Manderley with me." "Do you mean you want a secretary or something?" "No, I'm asking you to marry me, you little fool. ↗

— Daphne du Maurier

#humor

I would have given it up--all of it up--to be married to you for a day. A day that would never have come. You are a reminder--a reminder of everything I am losting. The Life I will not have. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#life

All my life, since I came to the Institute, you were the mirror of my soul. I saw the good in me in you. In your eyes alone I found grace. When you are gone from me, who will see me like that? ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#life

The measure of love is to love without measure. - attributed to Saint Augustine ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#love

That's how it is, Rocamadour: in Paris we're like fungus, we grow on the railings of staircases, in dark rooms with greasy smells, where people make love all the time and then fry some eggs and put on Vivaldi records, light cigarettes... and outside there are all sorts of things, the windows open onto the air and it all begins with a sparrow or a gutter, it rains a lot here, rocamadour, much more than in the country, and things get rusty... we don't have many clothes, we get along with so few, a good overcoat, some shoes to keep the rain out, we're very dirty, everybody is dirty and good-looking in Paris, Rocamadour, the beds smell of night and deep sleep, dust and books underneath. ↗

— Julio Cortázar

#love