Amelie Nothomb quotes
The purpose of the photograph is to reveal the love that is felt in a single image.
The purpose of the photograph is to reveal the love that is felt in a single image.
Unconsciously, I think I watch for a look, an expression, features or nostalgia that can summarize or more accurately reveal life.
We all have obligations and duties toward our fellow men. But it does seem curious enough that in modern neurotic society, men's energies are consumed in making a living and rarely in living itself. It takes a lot of courage for a man to declare, with clarity and simplicity, that the purpose of life is to enjoy it.
If it's a principle, it's a winner. If it's a tactic, it's a loser.
The affairs of war, like the destiny of battles, as well as empires, hang upon a spiders thread.
To imagine that it is possible to perform great military deeds without fighting is just empty dreams.
Have faith in yourself, all power is in you, be conscious and bring it out
The nature of our motivation determines the character of our work.
Every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.
But a voice inside her whispered, There are no heroes, and she remembered what Lord Petyr had said to her, here in this very hall. 'Life is not a song, sweetling,' he'd told her, 'You may learn that one day to your sorrow.' In life, the monsters win, she told herself.
He was almost naked too, but I hadn't quite gotten to his boxers yet. (They were silk because, honestly what else would Adrian wear?)
Self-righteousness in retrospect is easy--also cheap,
Children are grateful when Santa Claus puts in their stockings gifts of toys or sweets. Could I not be grateful to Santa Claus when he put in my stockings the gift of two miraculous legs? We thank people for birthday presents of cigars and slippers. Can I thank no one for the birthday present of birth?
Total evil. dang, his principal had been right all along... he really was demonspawn.
Blood is thicker than water, my mother had always said when I was growing up, a sentiment I'd often disputed. But it turned out that it didn't matter whether she was right or wrong. They both flowed out of my cupped palms.
Three weeks hadn't changed Cop Central. The coffee was still poisonous, the noise abominable, and the view out of her stingy window was still miserable. She was thrilled to be back.
I was confident that I was a special person. But time slowly chips away at life. People don't just die when their time comes. They gradually die away, from the inside. And finally the day comes when you have to settle accounts. Nobody can escape it. People have to pay the price for what they've received. I have only just learned that truth.
We bury things so deep we no longer remember there was anything to bury. Our bodies remember. Our neurotic states remember. But we don't.
To tell someone not to be emotional is to tell them to be dead.