Quotes About Story

I would like a food/lifestyle show. We're not sure what that is yet. I want to be able to share what I do and how I raise my family. I feel like I have a story to tell. I enjoy talking and listening, sharing ideas and sharing advice.

Make me a story." "Hunter, I don't have a stitch of clothes on," she squeaked. One of his dark eyebrows flicked upward. "You must have clothes to make stories?

There is no greater generosity than sharing your life story. If sharing my story helps even one person that's suffering, it would have been worth it.

Faith includes not only a center of value and an image of power but, thirdly, trust in and loyalty to a story that helps us make sense out of our world and experiences. This is what Fowler calls the shared master story.

Knowing the faith master story and how to interpret it is critical to the spiritual journey; it may be a life and death issue.

groups and classes for adults we often try to give them an understanding of the Christian faith by teaching the basic beliefs—the theological system—of our church. We lead them in discussing how Christians should respond to life situations and issues, but seldom do we tell them the faith story.

I will not let her speak because I love her, and when you love someone, you do not make them tell war stories. A war story is a black space. On the one side is before and on the other side is after, and what is inside belongs only to the dead.

everything has a narrative, really, and if you can't understand a story and relate to it, figure out how you fit inside it, you're not really alive at all.

But this is a story, and in a story there is always someone beautiful enough." - 'The Girl with Two Skins' from A Guide to Folktales in Fragile Dialects

After all, in fairy tales, there was only one thing to do. In every story with a long sleep and a waking in it. An easy thing, a pretty thing. Standard currency.

A story is a map of the world. A gloriously colored and wonderful map, the sort one often sees framed and hanging on the wall in a study full of plush chairs and stained-glass lamps: painstakingly lettered, researched down to the last pebble and participle, drawn with dash and flair, with cloud-goddesses in the corners and giant squid squirming up out of the sea...[T]here are more maps in the world than anyone can count. Every person draws a map that shows themselves at the center.

Listen, girl, I came to tell you that life is stupid. It just pulls the same shit over and over. Sometimes you think you can make it come out different, but you can't. You're in a story and the body writing it is an asshole.

The trouble was, September didn't know what sort of story she was in. Was it a merry one or a serious one? How ought she to act? If it was merry, she might dash after a Spoon and it would all be a grand adventure, with funny rhymes and somersaults and a grand party at the end with red lanterns. But if it was a serious tale, she might have to do something important, something involving with snow and arrows and enemies.

Life's still stupid but we got free of story out here under the beeches and the Big Dipper. We had enough of it, of things happening one after another and no end in sight. Of reversals and falling in love and tragic flaws, and by God if I see another motif in my business I will shoot it dead.

You couldn't ever really fix a sad story. You could only make another. And another. And another, until you found the right one at last, the one that ends in joy.

Endings are lush and lascivious, Vince; they call to me. All spread out on satin inevitabilities, waiting, beckoning, promising impossibly, obscenely elegant solutions—if you've been a good lad and dressed the house just so, for its comfort, for its arousal. All the rest of the nonsense a story requires is must a long seduction of the ending.

It is not the sea that calls us back. What calls us is stronger and more inexorable than any current. I long for the sea, yes… but more, I long for the leaving. I am restless, I am ready, and the leaving whispers to me at night. It says that I will breathe easier when the air is full of fog and seagulls, that I will breathe easier when I am at the start of a story, rather than at the end.

No, love, in real life you can get all the way to death and never have finished one single story.

I asked a queen once why she didn't want me. She wasn't a powerful queen, not a monarch of Spain or of Albania. Just a little kingdom of nowhere, but she married well and she had a crown. The queen of nowhere looked at me with her clear grey eyes and said: "Because I don't want to be in a story." Princesses usually grow up to be queens. The cleverness sticks long after the beauty goes.

The Heart of Fairyland is a story," she said, and she felt so warm and light and full of rightness of it that she thought she might faint.

Tell me a tale in which a woman is wed, and she is happy." The boy's lip trembled, and there was pity in him like a stranging vine. He knelt at Dinarzad's bare feet, and held her hands in his. "I do not know any stories like that", he whispered.

Life is like that. Death sweeps it away. That's what death is for. That's why they keep telling this story. It's the only story.

I'm an extra in your story. Well, you're an extra in mine, boy.

Let it be over", she pleaded within herself. "Let it never have happened—any of it. Let me be young again, and the story just starting.