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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #m
Why are murder mysteries so popular? There's a 3-part "formula" (if you want to call it that) for a genre novel: (1) Someone the reader likes and relates to (2) overcomes increasingly difficult obstacles (3) to reach an important goal. The more important the goal, the stronger the novel. And the most important goal that any of us have is survival. That's why murder mysteries are more gripping than a story titled "Who Stole My TV Set. ↗
The basis of drama is ... is the struggle of the hero towards a specific goal at the end of which he realizes that what kept him from it was, in the lesser drama, civilization and, in the great drama, the discovery of something that he did not set out to discover but which can be seen retrospectively as inevitable. The example Aristotle uses, of course, is Oedipus. ↗
It was crazy. One minute my arms were around him in a very platonic friendly hug, the next, I was on fire, and no matter how he much touched me, it was not enough. ↗
I can see the stars in your eyes from a mile away. They guide me to you just like the North Star.” Then he bent his head and kissed her – a long, sweet kiss under moonbeams that caressed them both lovingly. ↗
#contemporary #love #romance-novels #romances #contemporary-romance
Sometimes I used to think that one day i should wake up, and all that had been would be over. forgotten, sunk, drowned. Nothing was sure - not even memory. ↗
Compound actions on shared state, such as incrementing a hit counter (read-modify-write) or lazy initialization (check-then-act), must be made atomic to avoid race conditions. Holding a lock for the entire duration of a compound action can make that compound action atomic. However, just wrapping the compound action with a synchronized block is not sufficient; if synchronization is used to coordinate access to a variable, it is needed everywhere that variable is accessed. Further, when using locks to coordinate access to a variable, the same lock must be used wherever that variable is accessed. ↗
And at the moment of contact, they do not know if the hand that is reaching for theirs belongs to a Hindu or Muslim or Christian or Brahmin or untouchable or whether you were born in this city or arrived only this morning or whether you live in Malabar Hill or New York or Jogeshwari; whether you’re from Bombay or Mumbai or New York. All they know is that you’re trying to get to the city of gold, and that’s enough. Come on board, they say. We’ll adjust. ↗
Without thinking, I moved again, reaching out and touching the hand resting near my thigh. Call it an experiment, but I wanted to see what would happen Seth’s head whipped in my direction. “What are you doing?” “Nothing.” And nothing was what happened. Confused, I wrapped my fingers around his. “Doesn’t look like nothing,” His eyes narrowed on me. “I guess so.” Giving up on my impromptu test, I lifted my hand. “Shouldn’t you be—” Whatever I was about to say died on my lips. Incredibly fast, Seth grabbed my hand and threaded his fingers through mine. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, ever so casually. It happened. Being so close to him this time, I could see where the markings came from. The thick veins in his hand were the first to darken, branching out before spreading up his arm. Mesmerized, I watched the inky tats cover every piece of exposed skin. Before my eyes, they shifted away from his veins, swirling around his skin. Breaking off into different designs as he—we—continued to hold hands. ↗
