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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #cut
...her hand closes on smooth metal. Her fingers test the sharpness of the edge. Perfect. It's a fresh blade. The girls' voices rustle in her head. Their clamoring pushes out all rational thought. She rolls up her sleeve. The bite of the blade kills the noise. It wipes out the memory of those staring faces. Willow looks at her arm, at the life springing from her. Tiny pinpricks of red that blossom into giant peonies. ↗
It comes to this then: there always have been people like me and always will be, and generally they have been persecuted. ↗
#life #persecution #life
Clear-cutting" was the word for what the Rusties had done to the old forests: felling every tree, killing every living thing, turning entire countries into grazing land. Whole rain forests had been consumed, reduced from millions of interlocking species to a bunch of cows eating grass, a vast web of life traded for cheap hamburgers. "Look, we're not clear-cutting. All we're doing is pulling out the garbage that the Rusties left behend," David said. "It just takes a little surgery to do it. ↗
Worried, she looks to her left at the tall Tenshi master standing next to her. Jack Devon, her mentor and her friend. The boy who has saved her life countless times, who she admires more than anyone else even if he never understands how she can put up with him. Whose chocolate brown hair reminds her of what used to be home, whose eyes are the brightest of the blue marbles she played with as a kid, and whose smirk is what makes her smile. Jack Devon, her mentor and her friend. No, scratch that—he is her brother, and her best friend. He says nothing but his eyes mutter soft words of comfort. ↗
#best-friend #brothers #friend #gloria #jack
Веднъж се спънах и паднах - продължи тя. - Чаках го както винаги на автобусната спирка пред павилиона, но той закъсня, и когато се зададе, автобусът вече тръгваше. Спуснахме се да го гоним, но аз паднах и си навехнах глезена. А той вика: "Горкото мече-буболече". Задето паднах, де. Горкото мече-буболече, казва. Господи, какъв мил беше. - А Лю няма ли чувство за хумор? - Какво? - Казвам, Лю няма ли чувство за хумор? - Дявол знае. Може и да има. Смее се, като гледа карикатури и разни такива. ↗
The guillotine is the ultimate expression of Law, and its name is vengeance; it is not neutral, nor does it allow us to remain neutral. All social questions achieve their finality around that blade. The scaffold is an image. It is not merely a framework, a machine, a lifeless mechanism of wood, iron, and rope. It is as though it were a being having its own dark purpose, as though the framework saw, the machine listened, and the mechanism understood; as though that arrangement of wood and iron and rope expressed a will. In the hideous picture which its presence evokes it seems to be most terribly a part of what it does. It is the executioner's accomplice; it consumes, devouring flesh and drinking blood. It is a kind of monster created by the judge and the craftsman; a spectre seeming to live an awful life born of the death it deals. ↗
I know not how the Christians order their own lives, but I know that where their religion begins, Roman rule ends, Rome itself ends, our mode of life ends, the distinction between conquered and conqueror, between rich and poor, lord and slave, ends, government ends, Caesar ends, law and all the order of the world ends; and in place of these appears Christ, with a certain mercy not existent hitherto, and kindness, as opposed to human and our Roman instincts. (Quo Vadis) ↗
I know exactly how that is. To love somebody who doesn’t deserve it. Because they are all you have. Because any attention is better than no attention. For exactly the same reason, it is sometimes satisfying to cut yourself and bleed. On those gray days where eight in the morning looks no different from noon and nothing has happened and nothing is going to happen and you are washing a glass in the sink and it breaks-accidentally-and punctures your skin. And then there is this shocking red, the brightest thing in the day, so vibrant it buzzes, this blood of yours. That is okay sometimes because at least you know you’re alive. ↗
