Being Quotes (page 640)
As surely as the sunset in my latest Novembershall translate me to the ethereal world, and remind me of the ruddy morning of youth; as surely as the last strain of music which falls on my decaying earshall make age to be forgotten, or, in short, the manifold influences of naturesurvive during the term of our natural life, so surely my Friend shall forever be my Friend, and reflect a ray of God to me, and time shall foster and adorn and consecrate our Friendship, no less than the ruins of...
Henry David Thoreau
I do believe I begin to grasp the nature of miracles! For would it be a miracle, if there was any reason for it? Miracles have nothing to do with reason. Miracles contradict reason, they strike clean across mere human deserts, and deliver and save where they will. If they made sense, they would not be miracles.
Ellis Peters
I saw a spider-I didn't scream 'cause I can belch the alphabet-Just double dog dare me! And I chose guitar over ballet and I take these suckers down 'cause they just get in my way. Then you look at me kinda like a little sister-You high five your goodbyes and it leaves me nothing but blisters- I don't want to be one of the boys, one of your guys-Just give me a chance to prove to you tonight that I just wanna be one of the girls, pretty in pearls and not one of the boys...
Katy Perry
I still believe in the resilience of the human heart and the essential validity of love; I still believe that connections between people can be made and that the spirits which inhabit us sometimes touch. I still believe that the cost of these connections is horribly, outrageously high... and I still believe that the value received far outweighs the price which must be paid. (From introductory notes.)
Stephen King
... And still it is not enough to have memories. One must be able to forget them when they are many, and one must have the great patience to wait until they come again. For it is not yet the memories themselves. Not until they have turned to blood within us, to glance, to gesture, nameless and no longer to be distinguished from ourselves - not until then can it happen that in a most rare hour the first word of a verse arises in their midst and goes forth from them.
Rainer Maria Rilke