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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #monster
Oh," the girl said, shaking her head. "Don't be so simple. People adore monsters. They fill their songs and stories with them. They define themselves in relation to them. You know what a monster is, young shade? Power. Power and choice. Monsters make choices. Monsters shape the world. Monsters force us to become stronger, smarter, better. They sift the weak from the strong and provide a forge for the steeling of souls. Even as we curse monsters, we admire them. Seek to become them, in some ways." Her eyes became distant. "There are far, far worse things to be than a monster. ↗
I grew up in Chicago, so I've always been a Bears fan. Dad used to take me to Bears games and Cubs games. My brother used to ride me over to Lake Forest College on his Honda Supersport and we'd watch the Bears practice. I remember those guys out there as monsters - they were the biggest things I've ever seen! ↗
Desperate and so lonely, I've looked for you. And left behind all that I had ever longed for. Cold winds scream through my ears like a banshee. A freezing chill- A pain that still will forever haunt me. Yet I have made it here Running through all the fear. The sadness in my heart retains the pain. And if I fall, I've learned That I may not return. None of my love remains. Yet I have made it here. Make this pain disappear. My one and only, Prince Charming. And still I wonder, why can't I even dream? Tears fall like a rainstorm I barely see. A twisted grin broken within. Am I going crazy? Yet I have made it here Bearing this love, my dear. Bearing the weight of it upon my knees. And if I scream your name It's not returned in same I bed, forget me please. Yet I have made it here. Make this pain disappear. My one and only, Prince Charming. And still I wonder, why can't I even dream? And still I wonder, why can't I even dream? ↗
How different this world to the one about which I used to read, and in which I used to live! This is one peopled by demons, phantoms, vampires, ghouls, boggarts, and nixies. Names of things of which I knew nothing are now so familiar that the creatures themselves appear to have real existence. The Arabian Nights are not more fantastic than our gospels; and Lempriere would have found ours a more marvelous world to catalog than the classical mythical to which he devoted his learning. Ours is a world of luprachaun and clurichaune, deev and cloolie, and through the maze of mystery I have to thread my painful way, now learning how to distinguish oufe from pooka, and nis from pixy; study long screeds upon the doings of effreets and dwergers, or decipher the dwaul of delirious monks who have made homunculi from refuse. Waking or sleeping, the image of some uncouth form is always present to me. What would I not give for a volume by the once despised 'A. L. O. E' or prosy Emma Worboise? Talk of the troubles of Winifred Bertram or Jane Eyre, what are they to mine? Talented authoresses do not seem to know that however terrible it may be to have as a neighbour a mad woman in a tower, it is much worse to have to live in a kitchen with a crocodile. This elementary fact has escaped the notice of writers of fiction; the re-statement of it has induced me to reconsider my decision as to the most longed-for book; my choice now is the Swiss Family Robinson. In it I have no doubt I should find how to make even the crocodile useful, or how to kill it, which would be still better. ("Mysterious Maisie") ↗
