“It is our own flaws that we are least ready to forgive in others.”
“We are responsible not only for what we do, but also for what we fail to do.”
“Is it true that we can count the moments in which something really happens in our lives? Do we notice it right away, or only in hindsight?”
“What do violent individuals fear most? Violence? I should say not! By what do the cruel and selfish feel most threatened? All of them fear nothing as much as they fear love.”
“To forgive, one must love and be loved. Only those who forgive can be free. Whoever forgives is a prisoner no more.”
“How many times must we be loved in order to be happy?”
“What are people with guns most afraid of? Other people with guns? No! What do violent individuals fear most? Violence? I should say not! By what do the cruel and selfish feel most threatened? All of them fear nothing as much as they fear love.”
“We wish to be loved as we ourselves would love. Any other way makes us uncomfortable.”
“According to her we are each our own greatest mystery, and our life’s work is to solve ourselves. None of us ever succeeds, she says, but it is our duty to follow the trail. Regardless of how long it is or where it might”
“We often discover only many years later whether life and the stars were smiling upon us or not. Life can take the most surprising turns. What”
“In the hell of the well-intentioned.” That was how he referred to the charity balls my mother helped organize.”
“By how many people must we be loved in order to be happy? Two? Five? Ten? Or maybe only one? The one who gives us sight. Who takes away fear. Who breathes meaning into our existence. There”
“What’s more, they had taught him to be friendly and helpful to others. Not because he owed it to them. Because he owed it to himself.”
“Not all truths are explicable. Not all explicable things are true.”
“Loneliness is the most severe punishment. We are not built to handle it. I”
“Images can fade. Sounds and smells disappear from our memory. But our heart forgets nothing. A child’s soul knows everything.”
“Why do we so often put off the things that matter most to us?”
“HOW THIN IS the wall between us and madness? No one knows what it is made of. No one knows how much pressure it can withstand. Until it gives.
We all live on the edge.”
“Besides, I have no point of comparison," he declared, his eyes still closed. "That is the secret of a happy life.”
“The world was full of signs. One needed only to know how to see and interpret them.”
“THE FIRST TIME she left the house with her sleeping son in her arms, still unsteady on her legs, gripping the railing tightly, she surveyed the yard, astonished. It was at once familiar and strange. Something was different, though she could not immediately put her finger on it. The morning sun beamed through the bushes. The leaves of the banana plants seemed greener, their fruit larger and yellower. The hibiscus and the bougainvillea had never looked so beautiful. A warm breeze caressed her skin. Maung Sein was perched on a log below her, chopping kindling. Stroke by stroke he would split branches as thick as a fist. The uniformity of his movements radiated something infinitely reassuring. Nu Nu looked at Ko Gyi in her arms. He had her nose. Her mouth. Her cinnamon skin. She cautiously took one of his little hands. It was warm. And would always remain so. Suddenly he opened one blinking eye, and then quickly the other. He had her eyes, too, without a doubt. Ko Gyi regarded his mother earnestly, intently. She smiled. His deep brown eyes did not move. They looked for a long time at each other. Then a quiet smile drifted across his face. No one had ever smiled at her that”
“Laughter has many meanings here. We laugh when something is unpleasant. When we are afraid. When we are angry.” “Is it a kind of”
“—Find out who you were. Why”
“THERE ARE MEMORIES we cannot escape. We take them with us wherever we go, however far, like it or not. They pursue us or accompany us in good times and in bad. We smell their scents. We hear their sounds. We delight in them or dread them. By day and by night. My”
“Were there people who simply did not belong together? Who loved each other, but who were nevertheless happier when they were apart? Certainly”
“Themes so vast that only composers could even approach them. If at all. All other artists must practice humility before them.”
“Anyone who has been the victim of violence carries that violence inside himself. Anyone”
“Anyone who has been betrayed carries that betrayal inside himself. How”
“To live means to suffer. Nothing is permanent.”
“The master is mistaken: to live is to love.”
“When Martha first met me, I was anxious and jumpy. I was always tapping my foot, rocking, or exhibiting some other behavioral aberration. Of course, now we know that’s just normal Aspergian behavior, but back then other people thought it was weird, so of course I did, too. One day, for some reason, she decided to try petting my arm, and I immediately stopped rocking and fidgeting. The result was so dramatic, she never stopped. It didn’t take long for me to realize the calming effect, too. I like being petted and scratched. “Can you pet me?” I say when I sit next to her.”
“... The continuation of her life was more than another day of breathing, but was the gift of another day of engagement with her beloved across the spectrum of all things.”
“We already established I’m whipped. Got no problem with that considering how that’s come about puts me in a good mood.”
“Okay. Scrabble, donuts, flowers, corndogs, pre-pubescent British wizards and indie music. Am I missing anything important?”
She’s still blushing and it’s like the heat in her face is trapping all the words inside of her. “What is it?” I ask, an involuntary grin tugging on my mouth. I love it when she blushes like this.
Amy sighs, looks up toward the chandelier, “You, Cole. I like you.”
“Being a girl doesn't make you weak, Parker. It makes you special.”
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