Quotes About Life

Marriage...a book of which the first chapter is written in poetry and the remaining chapters written in prose.

certainly lived through more troubles than Tina, though Tina's own life couldn't be considered an easy one.

Try an' get some rest, darlin'." Clay pressed her back against her pillow. Sophie nodded. Clay stood and took a couple of steps toward the door. He paused and looked back at her, and then he awkwardly came back, leaned over, and kissed her on the forehead, then the cheek, then her lips. He brushed her hair back again. "You and the girls, and this life I've got myself into, will always be a miracle to me, Sophie.

I like the idea of having a family, but I'd've preferred a less troublesome one. One where I get shot or drowned less often.

a drop of her moon blood fell to the earth. Rabbit saw it. He started to play with this tiny blood clot, kicking it around with his foot, and through the power of Tkuskanskan, the quickening, moving spirit, the blood clot firmed up and turned into We-Ota-Wichasha—Blood Clot Boy—the First Man.

Rain falls on everyone, lightning strikes some. What cannot be changed is best forgotten. God made the world, and He saw that it was good. Not fair. Not happy. Not perfect. Good.

Odd, isn't it? You know when your birthday is, but not your death day, even though you pass the date year after year, never suspecting that some day…

I remember Mr. Bender's comment about us only being here for two weeks, too. It's true. How could Mother and Father have known? After I spent over a year in a coma, how could they have predicted exactly when I would wake up and then move to California precisely at that time? Was it only coincidence? Or did they decide when I would wake up? Why would they keep me in a coma for so long? Why would they steal a year and a half of my life? What kind of parents are they?

To abandon all is to take our hearts, place them before the One who created them, and dare to believe He can live life powerfully through our surrendered lives.

But remember, child, we may all have our own story and destiny, and sometimes our seemingly bad fortune, but we're all part of a greater story too. One that transcends the soil, the wind, time... even our own tears. Greater stories will have their way.

This world, it breathes you in … it knows you, and then it breathes you out again, shares you.

Sometimes it seemed the timing of the entire world was off, our intentions coming too soon or too late, life crowding up to blur our vision, and only later when the dust settles can we see our missteps.

Pieces. Isn't that what all of life is anyway? Shards. Bits. Moments. Am I less because I have fewer, or do the few I have mean more?

Do certain events in our lives leave a permanent mark, freezing a piece of us in time, and that becomes a touchstone that we measure the rest of our lives against?

soon the day would cleave in two, forever creating the before and after of my life, and it would happen in one swift act that I could no more alter than the color of my eyes.

When your life has had few events to occupy it, it's amazing how a simple encounter can seem like an entire three-act play.

Pieces" Isn't that what all of life is anyway? Shards. Bits. Moments. Am I less because I have fewer, or do the few I have mean more? Am I just as full as anyone else? Enough? Pieces. Allys saying "I like you" Gabriel snorting out bread freeing me to laugh. And Ethan reminding me how much I do know. Pieces. I hold them likethey are life itself. They nearly are.

Gold pleases men, but blood serves the gods, because in the end, your life is all you have to give.

The seed of the gift may come, but a seedling that isn't nourished dies quickly.

This life was a dream of my own making, one where my imagination was my only boundary. It was a life that I alone commanded.

He was a man, not a monster, as you imagine. He died the way all men die, one breath at a time.

These memories descend out of nowhere, giving me pieces of who I was, but their significance is lost. I sigh and resume my walk, not knowing if this memory is important, or just more of the jumbled trivia of Jenna's life, like sock shopping. Maybe that is all any life is composed of, trivia that eventually adds up to a person, and maybe I just don't have enough of it yet to be a whole one.

I didn't have the luxury of living only in a single moment. I had to live in a hundred fractured moments that held our futures in the balance.

I can't promise any tomorrows