More than anything, more than anything she had with him, she missed the language they had invented, the likes of which she had never had nor would again. The thoughts and ideas he had birthed in her, his golden touch, and the words that erupted from her and became sparks of light to him. David Grossman
Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.
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Unknown
Before you, Bella, my life was like a moonless night. Very dark, but there were stars, points of light and reason..And then you shot across my sky like a meteor. Suddenly everything was on fire; there was brilliancy, there was beauty. When you were gone,...
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Stephenie Meyer
Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy–the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only...
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Unknown
Each day brings new opportunities, allowing you to constantly live with love–be there for others–bring a little light into someone's day. Be grateful and live each day to the fullest.
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Roy T. Bennett
It's the kind of kiss that inspires stars to climb into the sky and light up the world.
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Tahereh Mafi
More Quotes By David Grossman
The passing time is painful. I have lost the art of moving simply, naturally, within it. I am swept back against its flow. Angry, vindictive, it pierces me all the time, all the time with its spikes.
More than anything, more than anything she had with him, she missed the language they had invented, the likes of which she had never had nor would again. The thoughts and ideas he had birthed in her, his golden touch, and the words that erupted...
He falls quiet again and tries to understand how he can be saying these things, how it can be that his dark words are coming out into the light and yet he is still alive. At once he storms the doorway that has suddenly opened...
One of the greatest skills any leader can master is becoming comfortable with silence.
Again, her singing was her only absolute, the only thing that was completely her. a thousand classes hadn't given her this concrete insight: her voice was her place in the world, the home she leaves in the morning and returns to at night, in which...
