#dot

To every man his little cross. Till he dies. And is forgotten. ↗

— Samuel Beckett

#godot #purpose #death

In the garden, the Captain of the Guard stared up at the young woman's balcony, watching as she waltzed alone, lost in her dreams. But he knew her thoughts weren't of him. She stopped and stared upward. Even from a distance, he could see the blush upon her cheeks. She seemed young—no, new. It made his chest ache. Still, he watched, watched until she sighed and went inside. She never bothered to look below. ↗

— Sarah J. Maas

#chaol-westfall #dreams

A lot of people in our industry haven't had very diverse experiences. So they don't have enough dots to connect, and they end up with very linear solutions without a broad perspective on the problem. The broader one's understanding of the human experience, the better design we will have. ↗

— Steve Jobs

#broad #broader #connect #design #diverse

Our family was nearly torn apart on several occasions by arguments started when the refrigerator door was open for what my father deemed as ‘too long. ↗

— Weston Locher

#comedy #essay #funny #humor #family

No matter what happens," she said quietly, "I want to thank you." Chaol tilted his head to the side. "For what?" Her eyes stung but she blamed it on the fierce wind and blinked away the dampness. "For making my freedom mean something. ↗

— Sarah J. Maas

#chaol-westfall #freedom

In one sentence, I'd describe myself as indescribable. But, I wouldn't end it with a period. I'd end it with three dots. ↗

— Jason Schwartzman

#dots #end #i #indescribable #myself

I like music," she said slowly, "because when I hear it, I...I lose myself within myself, if that makes any sense. I become empty and full all at once, and I can feel the whole earth roiling around me. When I play. I'm not... for once, I'm not destroying I'm creating. ↗

— Sarah J. Maas

#music #music

Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time! It's abominable! When! When! One day, is that not enough for you, one day he went dumb, one day I went blind, one day we'll go deaf, one day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not enough for you? They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more. ↗

— Samuel Beckett

#birth

Nor had she missed when they zigzagged between levels, even though the building was a standard grid of hallways and stairwells. As if she'd lose her bearings that easily. She might have been insulted if he wasn't trying so hard. ↗

— Sarah J. Maas

#throne-of-glass #insult

And this, even more wonderful and mysterious, is also true: when I read it, when I read what Julie's written, she is instantly alive again, whole and undamaged. With her words in my mind while I'm reading, she is as real as I am. Gloriously daft, drop-dead charming, full of bookish nonsense and foul language, brave and generous. She's right here. Afraid and exhausted, alone, but fighting. Flying in silver moonlight in a plane that can't be landed, stuck in the climb—alive, alive, ALIVE. ↗

— Elizabeth Wein

#maddie-bradott #nonsense