Anya looked upon Nin admirably. Having him as a partner-in-crime—if only on this one occasion, which she hoped would only be the start of something more—was more revitalizing than the cheap thrills of a cookie-cutter shallow, superficial romance, where the top priority was how beautiful a person was on the outside.
When they got to their hotel she went straight up to bed, but he paused to get a drink. There was, in the vestibule, a flower stall and he bought a handful of roses, stiffly wired into a bouquet, before proceeding to the oppressive gorgeousness of their bridal suite. The lift was lined with looking glass, so that as he shot upwards he got an endlessly duplicated version of himself, stout and nervous, a light cloak flung over his shoulder and flowers in his hand: an infinitely long row of gentlemen carrying offerings to an unforgiving past.
One of the salient facts of a self is that a person is constantly undergoing a series of actions in the immediacy of time that they must later reflect upon and synthesize new experiences, thoughts, feelings, and mental impression along with their latent memories into a collaborative sense of being.
I write about adversity, I praise adversity, not to be pessimistic, but rather to strengthen myself. The more familiar that you are with it, the less likely you are to have a breakdown when it occurs. You become more reflective of its purpose, you understand God's reason for it, and are then able to make the best of everything that you are handed. The darkness is only frightening after constant sunshine.
This book is to be neither an accusation nor a confession, and least of all an adventure, for death is not an adventure to those who stand face to face with it. It will try simply to tell of a generation of men who, even though they may have escaped shells, were destroyed by the war.
The world after a war is a good world, I told myself. A happy world. A secure world. In this world, I might do anything.
Now the wren has gone to roost and the sky is turnin' goldAnd like the sky my soul is also turnin'Turnin' from the past, at last and all I've left behind
My wandering imagination never gives up on me and always finds ways to explore what my emotions entail.
It doesn't matter how long you're here for, or what accomplishments you have, it matters what you do with that time and the type of person that you are.
For a great many people, the evening is the most enjoyable part of the day. Perhaps, then, there is something to his advice that I should cease looking back so much, that I should adopt a more positive outlook and try to make the best of what remains of my day. After all, what can we ever gain in forever looking back and blaming ourselves if our lives have not turned out quite as we might have wished?
THE INITIAL STEP IN INDIVIDUAL TRANSFORMATION REQUIRES THAT YOU ALLOW YOURSELF TO BE HONEST, OPEN, & VUNERABLE TO ADMIT YOUR SHORTCOMINGS; LOOK AT THE PATH YOU’VE TRAVELED; ACKNOWLEDGE ,THAT UNFAVORABLE EVENTS QUITE POSSIBLY WERE THE CONSEQUENSE OF YOUR POOR CHOICES; DEVELOPE A STRATEGY TO GET BACK ON TRACK WITH A WELL ALLUMINATED PATHWAY FOR REASONABLY ACHIEVABLE SUCCESS, WHATEVER WAY YOU DEFINE IT; AND KNOWING WHAT IS REQUIRED: POSSESING THE COURAGE, WILLINGNESS, & DESIRE TO IMPLEMENT POSITIVE CHANGE; CONSTANTLY & CONSISTENTLY FOREVER CHALLENGING YOURS ELF TO STRIVE FOR GREATNESS.
Jude used to try to make me laugh, and when I'd crack a smile he'd keep the joke going , like breath on an ember, making it grow into a fit of giggles that'd echo around the whole forest and make all the birds in the trees quiet.
What a tremendous sin impatience is, he thinks. It blinds us to the moment before us, and it is only when that moment has passed that we look back, and see it was full of treasures.
Is it not the disparity of wealth that consumes the willing soul. Rather, the golden keys of opportunity clamor softly with fraught anxiety of things which may never come.
He remembered hearing Karl tell James once that it was hard for people to ever know what they really looked like. Reflections in mirrors weren’t accurate, Karl said, because when you stared at yourself in a mirror, you subconsciously composed your face in a way that wasn’t your natural expression.Marvin wondered it that was true when you were with strangers too. Maybe you only looked like your true self with the people you loved. And maybe that was a face you yourself hardly ever got to see…
Naturally—and why should I not admit this—I have occasionally wondered to myself how things might have turned out in the long run.... I only speculate this now because in the light of subsequent events, it could well be argued that in making my decision...I was perhaps not entirely aware of the full implications of what I was doing. Indeed, it might even be said that this small decision of mine constituted something of a key turning point; that that decision set things on an inevitable course towards what eventually happened. But then, I suppose, when with the benefit of hindsight one begins to search one's past for such 'turning points', one is apt to start seeing them everywhere.... What would have transpired, one may ask, had one responded slightly differently...? And perhaps—occurring as it did around the same time as these events?
Having no resources within himself, he was compelled to be the copyist of many, and being such, he was forever the victim of inconsistency
So now, when I look back, all I see is who we used to be and who we are now. And I wonder how anybody can recognize anyone at all.
If you knew in advance that something momentous and terrible would happen you’d make an effort to imprint it all in your mind, wouldn’t you, every detail. But of course you don’t know. And perhaps that’s just as well.
It's a kind of heresy to say so, but I think our race has made forms more beautiful than what was here before us. Sometimes god's handiwork is crude. There is no more ugly thing than a lobster. There's not much pretty about a caribou. It has an ungainly walk and its touchhole voids droppings when it strains in harness. Was there a straight line on earth before we drew one?
Later, months later, when Jude thought back to the way it all went down -how did a burnout like him end up straight edge?- he'd remember that ambulance, just like the one he'd been unconscious inside. Its red cross, when viewed from the right angle, was an X on its side.
In town, there's a tiny beach that's never busy, not even in the summer.I used to like walking there, looking for stuff.Like old fireworks.Or kelp.A hat knocked off someone's head by the wind. You basically never find what you were expecting to.And maybe you weren't expecting to find anything right from the start...