“I recall his somber eyes during that last, private conversation. His eyes and his words, far too wise for a boy of ten: only time will tell, Lia.
In the end, I suppose it will.”
“I avoid looking at the clock, fearing the slow passing of time that will only seem slower if I watch its progress.”
“I love you anyway, Lia," he calls after me. "Until time tells, I mean."
I turn to him and smile, loving him more in this moment than any other. "Until time tells, then, Henry, and beyond. I love you as well.”
“I shake my head. "Remember, Mother. There are no mistakes."
She smiles through her tears, leaning in to kiss my cheek "No mistakes, my angel.”
“Its emptiness is more than the lack of living, breathing beings. It is the unread pages of the many books that reside on the shelves throughout the room I should hot have thought one could tell when books have gone unread, but after the company of Birchwood's well-loved library it is as if I can hear these books whispering, their pages grasping and reaching for an audience.”
“Pero no puedo dejar de pensar, no puedo detener el movimiento del engranaje de todo cuanto he aprendido. Dejo que mi mente se pasee por la oscuridad”
“A veces los árboles nos impiden ver el bosque”
“Зелените ми очи са бездънни и празни и аз се питам дали е възможно човек да се променя отвътре навън, дали тъгата може да се излъчва през вените, органите и кожата, така че всички да я виждат.”
“To find the books end,
cross the ancient wood to the mystic isle.
Until then, prepare yourself
for the coming battle. . .
AND TRUST NO ONE.”
“The blackness that smothers me is total, and in the moment before everything falls away, I know what it feels like to be dead.”
“There is no ladylike way to tell him to push all he wants, that his mouth and body on mine are the only things keeping me from losing my hold on a reality I never questioned until these past days.”
“The day is like a diamond, all beautiful warmth on the outside but without any heat to accompany it.”
“Perhaps because it seems so appropriate, I don’t notice the rain.”
“He had entered the rough world of men, where a man's acts follow him wherever he goes in the form of story.”
“There was love here, the voice said again.
But whose love? Ico wondered. He had assumed Ozuma had been talking about the queen and her daughter--but maybe...
From the very first time he had seen her, Ico had wanted to save Yorda. There had been no thought, no reason--when he saw her in the cage, he knew he had to set her free.”
“But the truth was that Laura Ingalls Wilder was the nicest girl I’d ever not known. Rennie would throw me under a bus for a piece of chocolate.”
“She wanders on like a poplar leaf borne upon a whirlwind of unconscious associations, she, her youth, her illusions and her former happiness remembered now through the mists of a ruined mind.”
“3 :
...
بعض الغناء لقوته ،
من يملك مثل هذه القوة !؟
بعض الغناء لعطاياه ..
لعلاماته و إشاراته
بعض الغناء لمجده المميز ،
عظيم هو و جميل
بعض الغناء لنعمة التحصل على معرفته ،
من خلال الدراسات الفلسفية الصعبة !
بعض الغناء لأنه من صمم الجسد ،
ثم قلّصه مرة أخرى إلى غبار
بعض الغناء لأنه من يأخذ الحياة ،
و يعيدها مرة أخرى !
بعض الغناء لأنه يبدو ..
بعيدا .. بعيدا جدا
بعض الغناء لأنه قريبا منّا جدا ،
الآن .. و في أي وقت مضى
بعض الغناء لأنه ،
لم يقصّر في ارسال من يعلموننا و يوعظوننا
ملايين و ملايين ، قدموا لنا
ملايين الخطب و الحكايات
...
المعطي العظيم مستمر في العطاء ،
بينما هؤلاء المستعطين ، يضجرون من عطاءه
و على مر العصور ، يعطي ،
.. و يستهلكون !
انه يقودنا بإشاراته
إلى السير على الطريق
اوه ناناك :
انه طريق يزهر
بالبهجة و السلام”
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