Quotes About Wonder

As we shook hands I wondered idly what her urine looked like.

Stories were wild, wild animals and went off in directions you couldn't expect.

There's so much wonder in the world. Don't let no one tell you otherwise.

Do you not wonder sometimes, she showed now, sadly, if in some ways they are correct? That we are asking too much of the world? "No," he said. "They're the ones who are asking for too little.

The forest was white in the snowfall, but still seemed to hold more secrets than she had ever thought possible.

But I begin to wonder if doubt is better than the wrong knowledge.

THERE IT IS,' my mother says, and what she means is that the dot we've been nearing for weeks, the one that's been growing into a larger dot with two smaller dots circling it, has now become even larger than that, growing from a dot to a disc, shining back the light from its sun, until you can see the blue of its oceans, the green of its forests, the white of its polar caps, a circle of colour against the black beyond.

There was a glass-fronted cabinet opposite, filled with plates on display stands and teacups with so many curlicues it was a wonder you could drink from them without cutting your lips.

Stories were wild, wild animals and went off in directions you couldn't expect. His

she is born in the breath of a cloud

He answered the phone to his daughter with a broken but joyous heart, ready to speak with her of astonishment and wonder.

Le cose della natura sono proprio sbalorditive, vero?" proseguì la madre. "Facciamo tanto per sbarazzarcene e poi alla fine sono proprio loro a salvarci.

In her dreams, she flies.

Other people's marriages are a perpetual source of amazement.

In the city, she mused, they might cross paths with "a poor man, a blind person, a beggar." She treated the whole experience as if it were an urban safari, rife with danger, but also with wonder and beauty. When little Arthur was ready to go off to his new school in the big city, she gave him a compass, in case he got lost.

The sweet smile of a young woman. There is nothing better in the world. It is worth more than salt. Something in us sickens and dies without it. I am sure of this. Such a simple thing. How strange. How wonderful and strange.

There is nothing quite so delightfully mysterious as a secret in your own backyard.

What the hell do you call that?" I asked him quietly. "Firefog?" "We could," he responded. "Kilvin would probably call it an atmospherically enhanced incendiary action.

And if you had the right sort of mind, the sort of mind that actually sees what it looks at, you might notice that his eyes were odd. If your mind had the rare talent of not being fooled by its own expectations, you might notice something else about them, something strange and wonderful.

So strange and rare. So full of faraway.

But instead, she simply walked through the walls. She didn't know any better. Nobody had ever told her she couldn't. Because of this, she moved through the city like some faerie creature. She walked roads no one else could see, and it made her music wild and strange and free.

She didn't know any better. Nobody had ever told her that she couldn't. Because of this, she moved through the city like some faerie creature. She walked roads no one else could see, and it made her music wild and strange and free.

She pulled the cork and sniffed it. "What's in it?" "Sunlight," I said. "And a smile, and a question.

I'm about to die of terminal curiosity, you know.