A person’s a person, no matter how small.
Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it’s a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope.
Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow.
There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.
Welcome to the wonderful world of jealousy, he thought. For the price of admission, you get a splitting headache, a nearly irresistable urge to commit murder, and an inferiority complex. Yippee.
I am very interested and fascinated how everyone loves each other, but no one really likes each other.
Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so on the road.
I bet you could sometimes find all the mysteries of the universe in someone’s hand.
And so the lion fell in love with the lamb…” he murmured. I looked away, hiding my eyes as I thrilled to the word. “What a stupid lamb,” I sighed. “What a sick, masochistic lion.
Follow your heart, listen to your inner voice, stop caring about what others think.
The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it.
If I had my life to live over again, I would have made a rule to read some poetry and listen to some music at least once every week.
Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.)
Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.
Боль настаивает на том, чтобы её заметили. Бог шепчет нам в наших удовольствиях, говорит через нашу совесть, но кричит в наших болях. Это его мегафон, чтобы разбудить глухой мир.
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