Quotes About Life

Trust was freedom, she understood now. It was a luxury. Without it, life was a cell. No emotion could ever get through unfettered and it seemed a hellish way to live.

I feel that if one is properly living life . . . an excess of rumination and metaphor can put you at a remove from all that's beautiful about it. If one takes advantage of all the senses—breathing, feeling, seeing . . . touching . . . tasting . . ." he tried not to look at Lillias ". . . then merely being alive is poetry.

Why does anyone love anyone?" she said. He shifted on the bench and blew out a breath. "I don't know. I know it's the only thing that makes life bearable. And it's the only thing that makes life unbearable.

Everything has a rhythm, Moncrieffe couldn't help but think, watching. The sea, our breathing, our anguish, our love. We couldn't endure the force of any of it all at once.

What can happen in a few minutes changes you forever.

She was the love of his life. "Hell.

Sometimes extraordinary things can happen on the most ordinary of days.

If we could pin down the moments when our lives bifurcate into before and after-if we could pause the progression of milliseconds, catch ourselves at the point before we slip over the precipice-if we could choose to remain suspended on time-amber, our lives intact, our hearts unbroken, our foreheads unlined, our nights full of undisturbed sleep-would we slip, or would we choose the amber?

Life, oblivious to his grief, continued

the last complete sentence she ever utters is "It's a good thing there's birds.

They learned that some people are born luckier than others and that things in this world do not always go as you plan.

And at three o'clock in the morning, as they lie beside us peacefully slumbering away, we wake up in a cold sweat, cheeks flushed, teeth clenched, hearts pounding, wondering: How many more laps do we have left? One hundred? One thousand? Six? Ninety-four? Isn't there somebody out there who can give us a clue?

Lulled by the calming music of ice clattering in the cocktail shaker, I began to ponder; this life we had going for ourselves

My mother says that some books are good no matter when you read them, and some are good at a particular moment; they come into your life at just the right time.

The reading and writing of fiction both requires and instills empathy—the insertion of oneself into the life of another.

Real life is not quite as it is in stories. In the old tales, bad things happen, and when the tale has unfolded and come to its triumphant conclusion, it is as if the bad things had never been. Life is not as simple as that, not quite.

I have listened to many tales in my life, and told a few of my own. If this has taught me anything, it is that there are some occurrences that change the course of things, that make an alteration far beyond their own apparent magnitude. It is like the throwing of a tiny pebble into a pool, how it makes an ever-expanding circle of ripples, spreading right across the water's surface.

This had been real: real in its flaws and uncertainties, real in its small triumphs, real in its compromises and understanding.

The world is simple, I think, in its essence. Life, death, love, hate. Desire, fulfillment. Magic.

You know not, yet, the sort of love that strikes like a lightning bold; that clutches hold of you by the heart, as irrevocably as death; that becomes the lodestar by which you steer the rest of your life.

Eat of my deep earth, drink of my living streams, for I am your Mother. Your heart is my wild drum, your breath my eternal song. If you would live, dance with me!

Saved my life, Grim said. You saved mine. Good team, then.

She said, a child born at midwinter comes into the world on the shortest day of the year. From that point on, the days stretch out. And so a child born at midwinter walks always toward the light, all his life.

About happy endings. Folk like a story to finish well. Doesn't matter if that's true to life or not. Helps to hear about folk being content. About good folk getting what they deserve. While you're listening you can believe, for a bit, that you're good too. Worth a happy ending.