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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| a75049e | But it's all, in the end, just life. We see it macro, like one big story, but when you're in it, it's all just day-to-day, right? And isn't that what you have to make your peace with? | Blake Crouch | ||
| e4b283d | is the sound of money being made, and only two things will stop them--Christmas and tragedy. He dismounts his albino steed, the horse's pinked nostrils flaring, dirty mane matted with ice. The single-rig saddle is snow-crusted as well, its leather and cloth components--the mochila and shabrack--frozen stiff. He rubs George's neck, speaking in soft, low tones he knows | Blake Crouch | ||
| 64cf208 | town, and the mule skinner knows that something is wrong. Two miles south stands Bartholomew Packer's mine, the Godsend, a twenty-stamp mill that should be filling this box canyon with the | Blake Crouch | ||
| b236f11 | And maybe I can let go of the sting and resentment of the path not taken, because the path not taken isn't just the inverse of who I am. It's an infinitely branching system that represents all the permutations of my life... | Blake Crouch | ||
| 802127e | We're all made of the same thing--the blown-out pieces of matter formed in the fires of dead stars. | Blake Crouch | ||
| efcc593 | a.m. It was still raining, still pitch-black inside the tent. The sound of Scott unzipping the sleeping bag had woken her, and now he was crawling out of it. "What are you doing?" Abigail whispered. "I put it off long as I could stand it. I gotta go like nobody's business." "Here, take this" | Blake Crouch | ||
| 313b009 | We see it macro, like one big story, but when you're in it, it's all just day-to-day, right? And isn't that what you have to make your peace with?" Out" | Blake Crouch | ||
| bd7da16 | pausing as the first radials of sunlight struck its translucent skin. Its progression down through the boulder field had been slow and careful, stopping occasionally to sniff the remains of others like it. Others Mustin | Blake Crouch | ||
| 2470a26 | Can I just say what we're all thinking? This is fucking weird. | Blake Crouch | ||
| fe16085 | Which brings me back to Michael Crichton. He didn't just play with big ideas in his books. He used those ideas to explore questions that felt immediate, meaningful, emotionally powerful--to everyone. You didn't have to be a sci-fi reader to understand what he was talking about, or to care, deeply, about the suspenseful tale he was spinning. That's the kind of book I set out to write with Dark Matter. | Blake Crouch | ||
| 17e26da | Dee Colclough lay watching it all on a flatscreen from a ninth-floor hotel room ten minutes from home, a sheet twisted between her legs, the air-conditioning cool against the film of sweat on her skin. She looked over at Kiernan, said, "Even the anchors look scared." Kiernan stubbed out his cigarette and blew a river of smoke at the television. "I got called up," he said." -- | Blake Crouch | ||
| 19704e9 | everything seems scarier at night. It's just an illusion. A trick the darkness plays on us. | Blake Crouch | ||
| a1c91c1 | The three most important people in her life are gone, and she will never see them again. The stark loneliness of that knowledge cuts her to the bone. She is forty-nine, and she wonders if this is what feeling old really means -- not just a physical deterioration, but an interpersonal. A growing silence caused by the people you most love, who have shaped you and defined your world, going on ahead into whatever comes after. | Blake Crouch | ||
| 6674431 | Can't do this." There were tears in her voice now, her throat clogged with emotion." | Blake Crouch | ||
| 9ee731f | AMOR TOWLES, | Blake Crouch | ||
| 4e7bb36 | Time is what keeps everything from happening at once. --RAY CUMMINGS | Blake Crouch | ||
| 0778948 | Is this what you want? To drop yourself into a still-life painting of a memory because life has broken your heart? | Blake Crouch | ||
| e9b7e4c | Each day is a revelation, every moment a gift. The simple act of sitting across the dinner table from his daughter and listening to her talk about her day feels like a pardon. How could he ever have taken even one second of it for granted? | Blake Crouch | ||
| 5a090d0 | But I'll tell you what I do wish. Wish we could live twice, take a different path each time. That at the end of all this, when I finished serving God in the West, I could go back to that day on the beach, put a ring on Eleanor's finger instead. | Blake Crouch | ||
| ab43127 | Here he comes," Blake said. When Kaidan climbed the steps to the deck he came straight for me, his hair slicked back with sweat from running. He took my face in his hands, breathing hard, lips tight, eyes like blue blazes. "Don't ever do that again," he ground out. It took a second to process his words and remember what exactly I wasn't supposed to do again. Then I recalled interfering. "I know it was dangerous," I admitted, "but there were.. | Wendy Higgins | ||
| 52c9463 | It will be destructive at first, like all progress. Just as the industrial age ushered in two world wars. Just as Homo sapiens supplanted the Neanderthal. But would you turn back the clock on all that comes with it? Could you? Progress is inevitable. And it's a force for good. | inevitable progress | Blake Crouch | |
| 08ca3e0 | There is no decent place to stand in a massacre. Leonard Cohen | Blake Crouch | ||
| 67e14c8 | You made me in your image, and now I will remake you in mine. | Blake Crouch | ||
| b1e8f12 | Is deja vu actually the specter of false timelines that never happened but did, casting their shadows upon reality? | memories reality science-fictionce time time-travel timelines | Blake Crouch | |
| 5219345 | what woman resents is not so much giving herself in pieces as giving herself purposelessly. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| 85997f8 | A good relationship has a pattern like a dance ... The joy of such a pattern is not only the joy of creation or the joy of participation, it is also the joy of living in the moment. Lightness of touch and living in the moment are intertwined. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| 924f858 | A day out of season, stopping the monotonous count of summer days. Stopping, too, one's own summer routine, so that, looking out on the gray skies, one says not only, 'What time of year is it?' but, 'What time of life am I in? Where am I? What am I doing? | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| 43b7aaa | When one is a stranger to oneself then one is estranged from others too. If one is out of touch with oneself, then one cannot touch others. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| f90fa82 | Purposeful giving is not as apt to deplete one's resources; it belonds to that natural order of giving that seems to renew iself even in the act of depletion. The more one gives, the more one has to give - like milk in the breast... Even purposeful giving must have some source that refills it. The milk in the breast must be replenished by food taken into the body. If it is [our] function to give, [we] must be replenished too. But how? Every.. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| dfa9261 | This is what one thirsts for, I realize, after the smallness of the day, of work, of details, of intimacy - even of communication, one thirsts for the magnitude and universality of a night full of stars, pouring into one like a fresh tide. And | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| a773c26 | These values are signposts toward another way of living: simplicity of living, as much as possible, to retain a true awareness of life; balance of physical, intellectual, and spiritual life; work without pressure; space for significance and beauty; time for solitude and sharing; closeness to nature to strengthen understanding and faith in the intermittency of life. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| d090ff3 | When you love someone you do not love them all the time, in exactly the same way, from moment to moment. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| b55ea4e | Perhaps middle age is, or should be, a period of shedding shells; the shell of ambition, the shell of material accumulations and possessions, the shell of ego. Perhaps one can shed at this stage in life as one sheds in beach living; one's pride, one's false ambitions, one's mask, one's armor. Was that armor not put on to protect one from the competitive world? If one ceases to compete, does one need it? Perhaps one can at last in middle age.. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| 75180b3 | No man is an island," said John Donne. I feel we are all islands--in a common sea." | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| 9b55083 | The only real security is not in owning or possessing, no in demanding or expecting, not in hoping, even. Security in a relationship lies neither in looking back to what it was in nostalgia, nor forward to what it might be in dread or anticipation, but living in the present relationship and accepting it as it is now. | love relationships | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | |
| e916916 | I shall ask into my shell only those friends with whom I can be completely honest. I find I am shedding hypocrisy in human relationships. What a rest that will be! The most exhausting thing in life, I have discovered, is being insincere. That is why so much of social life is exhausting; one is wearing a mask. I have shed my mask. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| f454049 | Clothes, first. Of course, one needs less in the sun. But one needs less anyway, one finds suddenly. One does not need a closet-full, only a small suitcase-full. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| 88f896d | How wonderful are islands! Islands in space, like this one I have come to, ringed about by miles of water, linked by no bridges, no cables, no telephones. An island from the world and the world's life. Islands in time, like this short vacation of mine. The past and the future are cut off; only the present remains. Existence in the present gives island living an extreme vividness and purity. One lives like a child or a saint in the immediacy.. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| 8628c88 | remind me that I must try to be alone for part of each year, even a week or a few days; and for part of each day, even for an hour or a few minutes in order to keep my core, my center, my island-quality. You will remind me that unless I keep the island-quality intact somewhere within me, I will have little to give my husband, my children, my friends or the world at large. You will remind me that woman must be still as the axis of a wheel in.. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| 244bfa4 | What has made the day so perfect ? To begin with , it is a pattern of freedom. It's setting has not been cramped in space or time. An island, curiously enough, gives a limitless feeling or both. Nor has the day been limited in kinds of activity. It has a natural balance of physical, intellectual and social life. It has an easy unforced rhythm. Work is not deformed by pressure. Relationship is not strangled by claims. Intimacy is tempered by.. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| db17003 | For the natural selectivity of the island I will have to substitute a conscious selectivity based on another sense of values - a sense of values I have become more aware of here. Island precepts, I might call them if I could define them, signposts toward another way of living. Simplicity of living, as much as possible, to retain a true awareness of life. Balance of physical, intellectual and spiritual life. Work without pressure. Space for .. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| 3d500ca | I believe that what woman resents is not so much giving herself in pieces as giving herself purposelessly. What we fear is not so much that our energy may be leaking away through small outlets as that it may be going "down the drain." We do not see the results of our giving as concretely as man does in his work. In the job of home-keeping there is no raise from the boss, and seldom praise from others to show us we have hit the mark. Except .. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| b87f888 | I felt a kind of impersonal kinship with them and a joy in that kinship. Beauty of earth and sea and air meant more to me. I was in harmony with it, melted into the universe, lost in it, as one is lost in a canticle of praise, swelling from an unknown crowd in a cathedral. 'Praise ye the Lord, all ye fishes of the sea - all ye birds of the air - all ye children of men - Praise ye the Lord!' Yes, I felt closer to my fellow men too, even in m.. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh | ||
| 94d1f90 | We are asked today to feel compassionately for everyone in the world; to digest intellectually all the information spread out in public print; and to implement in action every ethical impulse aroused by our hearts and minds. The interrelatedness of the world links us constantly with more people than our hearts can hold. Or rather--for I believe the heart is infinite--modern communication loads us with more problems than the human frame can .. | Anne Morrow Lindbergh |