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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #th
The keeping of lists was for November an exercise kin to repeating of a rosary. She considered it neither obsessive nor compulsive, but a ritual, an essential ordering of the world into tall, thin jars containing perfect nouns. Enough nouns connected one to the other create a verb, and verbs had created everything, had skittered across the face of the void like pebbles across a frozen pond. She had not created a verb herself, but the cherry-wood cabinet in the hall contained book after book, jar after jar, vessel upon vessel, all brown as branches, and she had faith. ↗
Be passionate about what you write, believe in your ability to convey timeless ideas, and let no one tell you what what you're capable of. ↗
#books #censorship #christina-westover #freedom-of-the-press #passion
Such lonely, lost things you find on your way. It would be easier, if you were the only one lost. But lost children always find each other, in the dark, in the cold. It is as though they are magnetized and can only attract their like. How I would like to lead you to brave, stalwart friends who would protect you and play games with dice and teach you delightful songs that have no sad endings. If you would only leave cages locked and turn away from unloved Wyverns, you could stay Heartless. ↗
I wait, you play. You speak, I cave. I promise, you break. You game me, daily, you play me. ↗
#friendship #games #love #love-story #passion
I took her into bed with me and propped myself up with pillows against the headboard to let her nurse. As she nursed and the milk came, she began a little low contented sort of singing. I would feel milk and love flowing from me to her as once it had flowed to me. It emptied me. As the baby fed, I seemed slowly to grow empty of myself, as if in the presence of that long flow of love even grief could not stand. ↗
Lo tocó murmurando la letra, con el violín bañado en lágrimas, y con una inspiración tan intensa que a los primeros compases empezaron a ladrar los perros de la calle, y luego los de la ciudad, pero después se fueron callando poco a poco por el hechizo de la música, y el valse terminó con un silencio sobrenatural. El balcón no se abrió, ni nadie se asomó a la calle, ni siquiera el sereno que casi siempre acudía con su candil tratando de medrar con las migajas de las serenatas. El acto fue un conjuro de alivio para Florentino Ariza, pues cuando guardó el violin en el estuche y se alejó por las calles muertas sin mirar hacia atrás, no sentía ya que iba la mañana siguinte, sino que se había ido desde hacía muchos años con la disposición irrevocable de no volver jamás. ↗
#love
I didn't used to be like this. I didn't believe in love and romance and swooning. My default setting was bitch ↗
You necessarily have to be lost, before you’re found. ↗
#buddhism #dark-night-of-the-soul #enlightenment #love #meditation
There was nothing else to do but call upon the Creator, praying, begging, pleading, bargaining—anything to make him protect Xavier. I couldn’t have him ripped away from me like that. I could survive emotional turmoil; I could survive the most intense physical torture. I could survive Armageddon and holy fire raining down upon the earth, but I could not survive without him. ↗
