#room

I know who I am, and I know who you are, and nothing else matters. it's how we live our life. ↗

— Tal McThenia

#identity #kidnapping #true-story #life

To this it must be added, that life in a wig is to a large class of people much more terrifying and impressive than life with its own head of hair … ↗

— Charles Dickens

#life

If you aren't living on the edge you're taking up too much room. Anon. ↗

— Pamela Eglinski

#hope #life #room #space #youth

When a small night-lamp alone illuminated our love-making, it became a very small, circular room which silently passed through nights humming with stars. ↗

— Fernand Dumont

#sex #stars #love

Marriage to the groom does not means that his heart belongs to the bride. ↗

— Dennis E. Adonis

#cheating #heart-broken #infidelity #lost-love #marriage

You,” I said, “are sweet music in a distant room. ↗

— Patrick Rothfuss

#distant-room #kvothe #music #music

Even exciting places are boring most of the time. Wars. Movie sets. Emergency rooms. ↗

— Ann Brashares

#movie-set #war #movies

There'll be the lightning bugs with their Morse code display, And shooting stars and constellations to befriend; The dragonflies will keep us from going astray, As we search for new adventures 'round every bend. -excerpted from the poem 'The Huge Playroom that is Nature' in the book FROM GUAM TO CROWN CITY CORONADO (THANKS TO HERMANN, MISSOURI): A JOURNEY IN POESY ↗

— Mariecor Ruediger

#missouri #the-huge-playroom-that-is-nature #nature

Her aunt and uncle worked fifteen hours a day in their desperate attempt to keep the corner shop in profit, and their Sundays were marked by exhaustion. The moral code by which they lived was that of cleanliness, respectability and prudence. Religion was for those who had the time for it, a middle-class indulgence. ↗

— P.D. James

#murder #pd-james #the-murder-room #religion

LADY CROOM: ....My lake is drained to a ditch for no purpose I can understand, unless it be that snipe and curlew have deserted three counties so that they may be shot in our swamp. What you painted as forest is a mean plantation, your greenery is mud, your waterfall is wet mud, and your mount is an opencast mine for the mud that was lacking in the dell. (Pointing through the window) What is that cowshed? NOAKES: The hermitage, my lady? LADY CROOM: It is a cowshed. NOAKES: It is, I assure you, a very habitable cottage, properly founded and drained, two rooms and a closet under a slate roof and a stone chimney -- LADY CROOM: And who is to live in it? NOAKES: Why, the hermit. LADY CROOM: Where is he? NOAKES: Madam? LADY CROOM: You surely do not supply an hermitage without a hermit? NOAKES: Indeed, madam -- LADY CROOM: Come, come, Mr Noakes. If I am promised a fountain I expect it to come with water. What hermits do you have? NOAKES: I have no hermits, my lady. LADY CROOM: Not one? I am speechless. NOAKES: I am sure a hermit can be found. One could advertise. LADY CROOM: Advertise? NOAKES: In the newspapers. LADY CROOM: But surely a hermit who takes a newspaper is not a hermit in whom one can have complete confidence. ↗

— Tom Stoppard

#advertising