The last good time always comes, and when you see the darkness creeping toward you, you hold on to what was bright and good. You hold on for dear life.
No matter how good you are at sneaking, you can't ever sneak well enough so that mosquitoes won't find you, and no matter how worried and tense you are, or how hard you are trying to pay attention, you just can't help noticing when a cloud of mosquitoes comes for you like you're their first good meal since last fall.
I'm not giving you any options here. We're doing this, Eva. Enjoy your last remaining hours as a single woman.
I have at last come to the end of the Faerie Queene: and though I say "at last", I almost wish he had lived to write six books more as he had hoped to do — so much have I enjoyed it.
For the most part wisdom comes in chips rather than blocks. You have to be willing to gather them constantly, and from sources you never imagined to be probable. No one chip gives you the answer for everything. No one chip stays in the same place throughout your entire life. The secret is to keep adding voices, adding ideas, and moving things around as you put together your life. If you’re lucky, putting together your life is a process that will last through every single day you’re alive.
Do you live each day as if it's your first or your last? Either way you should probably have a diaper on.
Can you be sure?" "I haven't spent the last fifteen hundred years learning how to knit my own socks, boy!" The crone looked like she might box Heinrich's ears, if she could reach them.
If you don't want to be a victim, don't act like one." It was fairly safe to assume that that was the first time anyone had ever spoken to W. W. Hale the Fifth in that manner. Kat was also fairly certain it wouldn't be the last. "I might lose my grandmother's company." Kat gave a smile and held Hale tight. "You won't lose me.
Life is worth Living Through every grain of it, From the foundations To the last edge Of the cornerstone, death.
They never exhale, the trees; on a very windy day, they rustle and inhale, and then the leaves and the branches all tremble as though something means to strangle the life from them. The sky watches on. The world is filled with anticipation, as if to wonder if this day will be a great day, or a horrible day, or the last day.
When was the last time someone read aloud to you? Probably when you were a child, and if you think back, you'll remember how safe you felt, tucked under the covers, or curled in someone's arms, as a story was spun around you like a web.
Is that an invitation?” “I suppose it is.” “Good.” Cade’s voice dropped lower, adding one last thing before hanging up. “And tell your friend in the striped shirt that he’s in my seat.
If someone had asked who could stage the best intervention with a crazy woman who had formerly been an undead monster, Sydney Sage would have been my last guess.
Jews don't camp...The last time the Jews went camping, they spent forty years wandering in the desert.
It's our last chance. No. No, I can't... I, no, I need to believe that it isn't our last chance... Eleanor? Can you hear me? I need you to believe it, too.
A red traffic light loomed, and Cecilia slammed her foot on the brake. The fact that Polly no longer wanted a pirate party was breathtakingly insignificant in comparison to that poor man (thirty!) crashing to the ground for the freedom that Cecilia took for granted, but right now, she couldn’t pause to honor his memory, because a last-minute change of party theme was unacceptable. That’s what happened when you had freedom. You lost your mind over a pirate party.
We don't know what's happened out there since they put us in here, or how many generations have lived and died since they did.We could be the last people left.
When you have that last piece of the jigsaw, everything will, I hope, be clear..." -Albus Dumbledore
Richard, might I ask you something? We've talked tonight of what you must do, of what you can do, of what you ought to do.But we've said nothing of what you want to do.Richard, do you want to be King?" At first, she thought he wasn't going to answer her. But as she studied his face, she saw he was turning her question over in his mind, seeking to answer it as honestly as he could. "Yes," he said at last. "Yes...I do.
Beauty: "You called me beautiful last night." Beast: "You do not believe me then?" Beauty: "Well - no. Any number of mirrors have told me otherwise." Beast: "You will find no mirrors here, for I cannot bear them: nor any quiet water in ponds. And since I am the only one who sees you, why are you not then beautiful?
I was overwhelmed. He understood me so well, how nervous I was about making this commitment, how frightening it was for me to become a princess. He was going to give me every last second he could and, in the meantime, lavish me with everything possible. I had another one of those moments when I couldn't believe this was all happening. "That's not fair, Maxon," I mumbled. "What in the world am I supposed to be able to give you?" He smiled. "All I want is your promise to stay with me, to be mine. Sometimes it feels like you can't possibly be real. Promise me you'll stay." "Of course, I promise.
Love is always real, even when it doesn’t last.
If the truth didn't help anyone, and love didn't last, what was there left to struggle toward?
She didn't say a work, and I gave up trying, because you couldn't hear either one of us over the shattering noise of hearts breaking and the looming shadow of the last word, the one we refused to say.
Annabeth pressed her lips to Percy’s ear. “I love you.” She wasn’t sure he could hear her—but if they died, she wanted those to be her last words.
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