She set out for revenge, to run them through, to do what an elf, an elf must do.” The next verse was Merill’s to improvise. “Climbed that roost, alighted right there. Made mush of his head for the onlooker bears.” “A two-pronger her prize, a meat most rare. Do-gooders will pay. Do-gooders will fear.” “Ballad of the loneliest ones, ” lamented Merill. “The loneliest ones, ” said Almi. She accepted that title; they were the loneliest. The elf gloomed. Darrell Drake
Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.
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Plato
Life, he realize, was much like a song. In the beginning there is mystery, in the end there is confirmation, but it's in the middle where all the emotion resides to make the whole thing worthwhile.
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Nicholas Sparks
Wherever you will go, I will let you down, But this lullaby goes on.
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Sarah Dessen
But you're so busy changing the world Just one smile can change all of mine
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Jack Johnson
You make me smile like the sun, fall out bed, sing like a bird, dizzy in my head. Spin like a record crazy on a sunday night. You make me dance like a fool, forget how to breath, shine like the sun buzz like a...
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Uncle Kracker
More Quotes By Darrell Drake
Battle is gruesome, but it is vigorous, alive. The aftermath is the worst of it: adrenaline fades, quiet sweeps in, and there’s nothing to distract you from the mess of bodies and disturbed earth.
Ashtadukht slumped and let thenightingale’s song flood her brain. She knew that empty tone, that defeatedoutlook; she knew it intimately. Even now, it burned in her as limply as asnuffed flame. Passion burned with unchecked verve, devoured its fuel, andsputtered out. Despair required no upkeep;...
You aren’t falling apart. You’re well beyond that. You’re just rattling along now. Elven dolls doing what little you can to gather the pieces as they fall away. <span style="margin:15px; display:block"></span>But you don’t know how to properly reattach them–a doll does not repair itself. So...
If the years have taught me one thing it's that those who care are always scarce. Those who genuinely care; not the acquaintances, false friends or those with similar aspirations. The few who seek your company, the souls who would plainly step off the world...
She did not belong to the healthy group of widows and widowers who, after mourning, would nurture the seed of their grief into growing from loss–perhaps continuing the dreams of the lost, or learning to cherish alone the things they’d cherished together. She belonged instead...
