Do you know how a pearl comes to be?"" Oysters make them, from a bit of sand."" Aiyah. From a bit of sand." He rolled the pearl between his fingers. "All pearls begin as something unpleasant that the oysters cannot expel from themselves, even though they may want to. So they embrace these things that will not leave them, shaping them and smoothing away the sharp edges, until over time, they make of these unwanted things great treasures. . C.L. Wilson
He loved her, of course, but better than that, he chose her, day after day. Choice: that was the thing.
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Sherman Alexie
Kiss a lover, Dance a measure, Find your name And buried treasure. Face your life, It's pain, It's pleasure, Leave no path untaken.
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Neil Gaiman
Love is the will to extend one's self for the purpose of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth... Love is as love does. Love is an act of will -- namely, both an intention and an action. Will also implies choice. We do not...
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M. Scott Peck
I miss us too. I always have and I probably always will. Sometimes there are no happy endings. No matter what, I'll be losing something, someone. <span style="margin:15px; display:block"></span>But maybe that's what it all comes down to. Love, not as a surge of passion, but...
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Emily Giffin
Choice or no, my heart is his.
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Beth Revis
More Quotes By C.L. Wilson
More and more these days, I'm realizing that I might be crazy, but I'm loved too. I don't think I ever really knew that before, but I do now.
Having no room of my own to "take care of things" had begun to weigh on me. I wondered if storing up semen would have a health impact on me, positive or negative, like shinier hair or weight gain.
This is where we come, " he said. Albie and I look at each other. “We?”“Me and, you know.” Albie’s eyes got wide. “I really don’t think I want to know about this.” I surprised myself. <span style="margin:15px; display:block"></span>“I do, ” I said. I guess...
It’s hard to be different, ” Scarborough said. “And perhaps the best answer is not to tolerate differences, not even to accept them. But to celebrate them. Maybe then those who are different would feel more loved, and less, well, tolerated.
The hole in my heart, I can’t even begin to describe. It’s hard when you open your heart and let someone in and then suddenly they’re not in it anymore. It doesn’t matter whose fault it is; that empty spot stings so bad that you...
