R.J. Anderson Quotes

Alison,' said Kirk. 'She's new. Hey, want a space?' He nudged out one of the empty chairs with his foot.
'Space,' echoed Sanjay.
'The final frontier,' said Kirk helpfully. 'Or a place to sit, whatever. You gonna join us?

I heard the universe as an oratorio sung by a master choir of stars, accompanied by the orchestra of the planets and the percussion of satellites and moons. The aria they performed was a song to break the heart, full of tragic dissonance and deferred hope, and yet somewhere beneath it all was a piercing refrain of glory, glory, glory. And I sensed that not only the grand movements of the cosmos, but everything that had happened in my life, was a part of that song. Even the hurts that seemed most senseless, the mistakes I would have done anything to erase
nothing could make those things good, but good could still come out of them all the same, and in the end the oratorio would be no less beautiful for it.

I don't know how to be anything but pretend," I replied, and it ached in me how true that really was. "But if I could be real, I'd be real for you.

I caught Faraday's face between my hands and broke off the kiss, breathless.
"I've just thought of something," I said.
"Something we haven't tried."
"There's a lot of things we haven't tried," he said, "but I'm going to refrain from the obvious, and assume you're talking about the wormhole. What is it?

I'm just a little cold," said Knife, pulling the blanket closer about her shoulders.
Paul wrapped his free arm around her. "It's all right," he said. "I've got you."
"Yes," said Knife, smiling up at him. "You have.

I'd finally reached the end of myself, all my self-reliance and denial and pride unraveling into nothingness, leaving only a blank Alison-shaped space behind. It was finished. I was done.
But just as I felt myself dissolving on the tide of my own self-condemnation, the dark waves receded, and I floated into a celestial calm.
I saw the whole universe laid out before me, a vast shining machine of indescribable beauty and complexity. Its design was too intricate for me to understand, and I knew I could never begin to grasp more than the smallest idea of its purpose. But I sensed that every part of it, from quark to quasar, was unique and - in some mysterious way - significant.
I heard the universe as an oratorio sung by a master choir of stars, accompanied by the orchestra of the planets and the percussion of satellites and moons. The aria they performed was a song to break the heart, full of tragic dissonance and deferred hope, and yet somewhere beneath it all was a peircing refrain of glory, glory, glory. And I sensed that not only the grand movements of the cosmos, but everything that had happened in my life, was a part of that song. Even the hurts that seemed most senseless, the mistakes I would have done anything to erase - nothing could make those things good, but good could still come out of them all the same, and in the end the oratorio would be no less beautiful for it.
I realized then that even though I was a tiny speck in an infinite cosmos, a bli

So I couldn't talk about the color of three, or whether triangles tasted better than circles, or how playing Bach on my keyboard made fireworks go off in my head, because people would think I was crazy.

Reluctantly she lifted her eyes to his, and he went on: "I want you to understand this as though I were one of your own people." He drew in a deep breath. "Thank you. Thank you for your friendship. Thank you for my life.

I disliked numbers, and they didn't think much of me either.

His name was spicy and elastic, like cinnamon gum.

I sensed that not only the grand movements of the cosmos, but everything that had happened in my life, was a part of that song. Even the hurts that seemed most senseless, the mistakes I would have done anything to erase - nothing could make those things good, but good could still come out of them all the same, and in the end the oratorio would be no less beautiful for it.
I realized then that even though I was a tiny speck in an infinite cosmos, a blip on the timeline of eternity, I was not without purpose. And as long as I had a part in the music of the spheres, even if it was only a single grace note, I was not worthless. Nor was I alone.

I was six years old, watching my pregnant mother wash the dishes. Cutlery clinked, filling the air with sparkling bursts of colour.
'Do it again!' I begged her, bouncing in my seat.
My mother glanced back at me. 'Do what?'
'Make the stars.'
'Stars?'
It never occurred to me that she couldn't' see what I was seeing. 'The gold ones', I said.
'I don't know what you're talking about.' she replied, and with a child's impatience, I hopped down from my stool to show her.
'Like this,' I said, taking two spoons and clanging them together. Each clink produced another starburst expanding luminous through the air between us.
'You mean,' said my mother slowly, 'the sound makes you think of the stars?'
'No, it makes the stars..

I saw the whole universe laid out before me, a vast shining machine of indescribable beauty and complexity. Its design was too intricate for me to understand, and I knew I could never begin to grasp more than the smallest idea of its purpose. But I sensed that every part of it, from quark to quasar, was unique and - in some mysterious way - significant.

What would happen if you stopped fighting, and gave yourself permission to feel? Not just the good things, but everything?

I looked up, into the muddy hazel eyes of the nicest man I would ever learn to hate.

I realized then that even though I was a tiny speck in an infinite cosmos, a blip on the timeline of eternity, I was not without purpose.

Every time you show your feelings, you apologize. Have you ever had an emotion in your life that you weren't ashamed of?

I might not be ready to pour out my feelings to the world, but I'd had enough of trying to ignore them.

Eryx didn't turn to watch her go. His gaze was on Esmond, dark with reproach. "This is unacceptable. Apologize to our guests at once."

"Why?" asked Esmond. "I haven't said a thing that isn't true. And it would be a shame to stop before the exciting bit." He straightened up to his full height. "There's a kidnapper, an extortioner, and at least two murderers in this room, and I'm not leaving until everyone knows who they are.

I hate it when people talk like friendship is less than other kinds of - as though it's some kind of runner-up prize for people who can't have sex.