Quotes About Do Not Stop Dreaming
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Do not stop dreaming because dreams are not real. ~ Debasish Mridha
Failure cannot be erased. It is built in to a life and helps us grow. Failure cannot be erased, but it can be understood.
Most people carry around a load of feeling that they bury or pretend is not there because it is too painful and alarming to cope with or because it involved unbearable guilt. Anger against a parent, for example.
I knew the tide of woe was rising, that woe that seizes me like anger, and is a form of anger, and I didn't know what to do to stop it, so I got up and picked flowers, cooked my dinner, looked at the news, all the same usual routine that can ward off the devils or suddenly clear the air as when a thunderstorm seems to be coming and then dissipates ... .it always happens when there is a galaxy of problems that get knit together into one huge outcry against the sense of being abandoned or orphanhood ... ~ May Sarton
Inez, I'm sorry," Thomas said quietly, his expression earnest. "I had no choice. You were dying, and besides you agreed to the turn the night before. Didn't you?" He frowned and muttered, "Of course, it was right after you'd nearly drowned and you might not have really understood what was going on at the time. Do you even love me? You nodded to that too, but ... " He raised his head and said solemnly, "I'm sorry if you're upset about being turned, but I'm not sorry for doing it. Because whether you love me or not, Inez, I love you. You're strong, and brilliant and sweet and have a strength I've never seen in other women. This last week you've done whatever was required of you to help find Marguerite without complaint or allowing fear to stop you, even going so far as being the bait in the trap." He scowled and then admitted, "Though I have to say I thought that was rather foolish. I was really pissed at you for putting your life at risk like that. ~ Lynsay Sands
His hand tightened around hers, and his smile was like watching the dawn, but his eyes were still in doubt. "Are you afraid?"
"Of you?" She wrapped her hands around his and pressed them to her lips. "I'm afraid of your ambitions," she said softly, telling her own secret truth. "I am afraid that you will leave me, particularly if you marry this Katherine. I am afraid that you might not love me or that even if you do, that you might stop." She raised her eyes to his. "but no, my fallen angel. I am not afraid of you. ~ Jayel Wylie
Finn pulled away from her mouth to look at Navi, her full lips swollen and a dusky flush on her cheeks. "Do or die time, babe," he murmured against her mouth. "You let this beast off the leash and I'm not going to stop."
Her mouth curled into a sensual smile, and her hazel eyes glowed with the challenge. "Do your worst, Finn Kelly. ~ Katherine McIntyre
The popular concept–that we should each determine our own morality–is based on the belief that the spiritual realm is nothing at all like the rest of the world. Does anyone really believe that? For many years after each of the morning and evening Sunday services I remained in the auditorium for another hour to field questions. Hundreds of people stayed for the give-and-take discussions. One of the most frequent statements I heard was that 'Every person has to define right and wrong for him- or herself.' I always responded to the speakers by asking, 'Is there anyone in the world right now doing things you believe they should stop doing no matter what they personally believe about the correctness of their behavior?' They would invariable say, 'Yes, of course.' Then I would ask, "Doesn't that mean that you do believe there is some kind of moral reality that is "there" that is not defined by us, that must be abided by regardless of what a person feels or thinks?' Almost always, the response to that question was silence, either a thoughtful or a grumpy one. ~ Timothy J. Keller
When I open the door, Baz is wheeling an old-fashioned chalkboard in front of our beds.
"Where did that come from?" I ask.
"A classroom."
"Yeah, but how did it get up here?"
"It flew."
"No," I say, "seriously."
He rolls his eyes. "I Up, up and away-ed it. It wasn't much work."
"Why?"
"Because we're solving a mystery, Snow. I like to organize my thoughts."
"Is this how you normally plot my downfall?"
"Yes. With multicoloured pieces of chalk. Stop complaining." He opens up his book bag and takes out a few apples and things wrapped in greaseproof paper. "Eat," he says, throwing one at me.
It's a bacon roll. He's also got a pot of tea.
"What's all this?" I say.
"Tea, obviously. I know you can't function unless you're stuffing yourself."
I unwrap the roll and decide to take a bite. "Thanks."
"Don't thank me," he says. "It sounds wrong."
"Not as wrong as you bringing me bacon butties."
"Fine, you're welcome - when's Bunce getting here?"
"Why would she?"
"Because you do everything together, don't you? When you said you'd help, I was counting on you bringing your smarter half. ~ Rainbow Rowell
I'm not who that guy says I am. I'm not who that girl says I am. I'm not who social media likes and comments say I am. I'm not who the grades, to-do lists, messes, and mess ups say I am. I'm not who the scale says I am or the sum total of what my flaws say I am. I'm going to stop flirting with the unstable things of this world so I can fall completely in love with You. I am loved. I am held. I am Yours. I am forever Yours." The more intimacy like this that I have with God, the more secure my true identity is. ~ Lysa TerKeurst
Hi, Sunshine," he says quietly. Then he leans down and lightly kisses my forehead.
"Why do you call me that?" I ask softly as I snuggle closer to him. He says nothing but looks at me with the strangest expression. If I didn't know any better, I would say he was a little embarrassed. He gives me a small smile that tells me he's got a secret, and I watch as the secret smile suddenly morphs into that heartbreaking shy smile of his that I love. Oh, boy! Could he be any more adorable than he already is? I giggle softly at his reaction. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"
"Maybe someday," he says quietly, still smiling at me. "
That's not fair," I whisper, running my hand lightly over his arm.
He chuckles softly. "All's fair in love and nicknames," he mutters quietly, and I stop breathing. Did he just say love? ~ Lashell Collins
Dear Forrest,
I am sorry there was no time for us to speech other before I left. The doctors made their decision quickly, and before I knew it, I was being taken away, but I asked if I could stop long enough to write you this note, because you have been so kind to me whileI was here.
I sense, Forrest, that you are on the verge of something very significant in your life, some change, or event that will move you in a different direction, and you must seize the moment, and not let it pass. When I think back on it now, there is something in your eyes, some tiny flash of fire that comes now and then, mostly when you smile, and , on those infrequent occasions, I believe what I saw was almost a Genesis of our ability as humans to think, to create, to be.
This war is to for you, old pal - nor me - and I am well out of it as I'm sure you will be in time. The crucial question is, what will you do? I don't think you're an idiot at all. Perhaps by the measure of tests or the judgement of fools, you might fall into some category or other, but deep down, Forrest, I have seen that glowing sparkle of curiosity burning deep in your mind. Take the tide, my friend, and as you are carried along, make it work for you, fight the shallows and the snags and never give up. You are a good fellow, forrest, and you have a big heart.
Your pal,
Dan ~ Winston Groom
It became apparent to enthusiasts of locomotive travel that there was at least one unscheduled train on the tracks of Palimpsest. It did not stop at any of the stations, for one thing. Astrologers and geologists were consulted; they are much the same folk in this part of the world. The astrologer gazes upward and scries out shapes in the sky, and to do this he builds great towers so as to be closest to the element of his choice. The geologist is an astrologer who once, just once, happened to look down. From such great heights she glimpses the enormous shapes stamped on the earth, the long polygons made by the borders of farms and rivers and mill towns, littoral masses and city walls, a reflection of the celestial mosaic. In these loamy constellations Palimpsest is but a decorative flourish; they are so vast and complex that in her lifetime the geologist may chart but the tiniest part of the conterration which contains her tower. It is a long and lonely life to which few are called. ~ Catherynne M Valente
Rayna does not get sick on planes. Also, Rayna does not stop talking on planes. By the time we land at Okaloosa Regional Airport, I'm wondering if I've spoken as many words in my entire life as she did on the plane. With no layovers, it was the longest forty-five minutes of my whole freaking existence.
I can tell Rachel's nerves are also fringed. She orders an SUV limo-Rachel never does anything small-to pick us up and insists that Rayna try the complimentary champagne. I'm fairly certain it's the first alcoholic beverage Rayna's ever had, and by the time we reach the hotel on the beach, I'm all the way certain.
As Rayna snores in the seat across from me, Rachel checks us into the hotel and has our bags taken to our room. "Do you want to head over to the Gulfarium now?" she asks. "Or, uh, rest up a bit and wait for Rayna to wake up?"
This is an important decision. Personally, I'm not tired at all and would love to see a liquored-up Rayna negotiate the stairs at the Gulfarium. But I'd feel a certain guilt if she hit her hard head on a wooden rail or something and then we'd have to pay the Gulfarium for the damages her thick skull would surely cause. Plus, I'd have to suffer a reproving look from Dr. Milligan, which might actually hurt my feelings because he reminds me a bit of my dad.
So I decide to do the right thing. "Let's rest for a while and let her snap out of it. I'll call Dr. Milligan and let him know we've checked in."
Two hours later, Sleepin ~ Anna Banks
so who cares what she was before you met her?" "Yeah, but a virgin? I want nothing to do with that." "Well, she isn't a virgin anymore." That made Blake stop. "I guess you're right. What good would it do me to send her back? It's not like she didn't know what she was ~ Melody Anne
Stop tormenting Derian."
"Me?" Edgar gaped at her with a clearly fake look of innocence.
"Yes, you."
"And what about you? When will you stop tormenting him?" Edgar moved past the young queen to approach the unmoving captain. He circled the man as though he were checking out a statue on display
"I'm not tormenting him; why would you say that?"
"You have the poor guy believing you actually intend to marry him." Edgar stopped to fix the captain's collar, raising it up high and stiff around his neck.
"I do intend to marry him." Eena followed her immortal watchdog and folded down the captain's collar, repositioning it as it had been.
"Oh please," Edgar groaned. "You've had two opportunities to do so, and on both occasions you turned him down." Edgar elevated the captain's elbow - adjusting him like a mannequin - leaving it in an awkward position. "The council expressed a desire for you to marry, and you nearly hyperventilated over the mere suggestion. And just recently, due to his own paranoia, Derian all but begged you to marry him. Your refusal couldn't have been more swift or more adamant."
Eena returned the captain's elbow to his side as she retorted, "I'm only seventeen, Edgar! I have no desire to marry anyone right now. But when I am ready, Derian will be my husband."
Edgar took hold of the captain's outreaching arm and shoved it forcefully down. "He will not."
Richelle E. Goodrich
Sometimes I get the feeling [my parents have] asked me to hold this big invisible secret for them, like a backpack full of rocks--all these things they don't want to know about themselves. I'm supposed to wear it as I hike up this trail toward my adulthood. They're already at the summit of Full Grown Mountain. They're waiting for me to get there and cheering me on, telling me I can do it, and sometimes scolding and asking why I'm not hiking any faster or why I'm not having more fun along the way. I know I'm not supposed to talk about this backpack full of their crazy, but sometimes I really wish we could all stop for a second. Maybe they could walk down the trail from the top and meet me. We could unzip that backpack, pull out all of those rocks, and leave the ones we no longer need by the side of the trail. It'd make the walk a lot easier. Maybe then my shoulders wouldn't get so tense when Dad lectures me about money or Mom starts a new diet she saw on the cover of a magazine at the grocery store. ~ Aaron Hartzler
Labeling yourself is not only self-defeating, it is irrational. Your self cannot be equated with any one thing you do. Your life is a complex and ever-changing flow of thoughts, emotions, and actions. To put it another way, you are more like a river than a statue. Stop trying to define yourself with negative labels - they ~ David D. Burns
The widespread interest in gossip is inspired, not by a love of knowledge but by malice: no one gossips about other people's secret virtues, but only about their secret vices. Accordingly most gossip is untrue, but care is taken not to verify it. Our neighbour's sins, like the consolations of religion, are so agreeable that we do not stop to scrutinise the evidence closely. ~ Bertrand Russell
Unless institutional power reinforces the hurt and prejudice suffered by a group, it is not oppression. By definition, a person of color cannot be racist, or a woman sexist, because they do not have the institutionalized power to act on their prejudices. Also, by definition, all white people are racist, not just because of the personal attitudes that we usually think of as racist, but because of the privilege white skin brings in our society. Whites cannot say they are not racist because they are born into a society that teaches racism and reinforces white privilege every day even before they can be aware of it. Whites can choose, however, to be active antiracists, which means making a commitment to a lifelong process of learning to recognize racism in themselves and in the institutions they are part of and taking steps to stop it. ~ Linda Stout
The sheer vital energy of the Woolfs always astonishes me when I stop to consider what they accomplished on any given day. Fragile she may have been, living on the edge of psychic disturbance, but think what she managed to do nonetheless -- not only the novels (every one a breakthrough in form), but all those essays and reviews, all the work of the Hogarth Press, not only reading mss. and editing, but, at least at the start, packing the books to go out!
And besides all that, they lived such an intense social life. (When I went there for tea, they were always going out for dinner and often to a party later on.) The gaiety and the fun of it all, the huge sense of life! The long, long walks through London that Elizabeth Bowen told me about. And two houses to keep going! Who of us could accomplish what she did?
There may be a lot of self-involvement in A Writer's Diary, but there is no self-pity (and what has to be remembered is that what Leonard published at that time was only a small part of all the journals, the part that concerned her work, so it had to be self-involved). It is painful that such genius should evoke such mean-spirited response at present. Is genius so common that we can afford to brush it aside? What does it matter if she is major or minor, whether she imitated Joyce (I believe she did not), whether her genius was a limited one, limited by class? What remains true is that one cannot pick up a single one of her books and read a page withou ~ May Sarton
Do not stop doing what you love doing most. The love is in doing it most of the time. ~ Anyaele Sam Chiyson
There is a basic truth about life, It is what you make of it, and whether by mistake or not, you're going to mess up things once in awhile, but the good part is, you get to choose how to mess it up. You will have friends, some real, some fake. The ones that stand beside you through it all are the real ones. Don't let go of them. Also remember, Your friends are everything you can wish for. As for lovers, they'll come and go. And I hate to admit it to you, but the truth is, most of them will break your heart, but that doesn't mean you should give up on love, because if you do, then you've lost it all. You'll never find that person that completes you. If you tried and you failed doesn't mean you should stop trying. Keep trying, never give up, and never stop to believe in yourself. Because if you don't, nobody else will. So never lose focus, believe you will make it and most importantly, always smile, because life's a beautiful thing and there is so much to smile about in life. ~ Ane Krstevska
Tell me you didn't," she groaned, knowing it would not be the truth. "Please tell me you didn't take advantage of these poor people."
"I didn't," he chirped.
"Liar."
With an irritated sigh he tried to convince her. "Amora, you're not seeing things from an immortal perspective. The people who built this temple…"
"Temple?" she cried, cutting him off. "You forced these people to build you a temple? Why? Because all of a sudden you're God now?"
Perturbed by her interruption, he raised a warning finger. "No, no, Amora, not God. But from their viewpoint I may seem a bit…..god-like."
She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner.
"If you would let me finish," he went on, "these particular individuals had no part in the construction of that monument; it was their ancestors who erected it. And I must say, they did a fine job. My likeness has weathered the centuries quite well."
"You're despicable."
He frowned at the insult. "Nobody was forced to build us a temple, Amora. They chose to do so."
"You were that impressive to them, huh?"
"Apparently." His eyes twinkled at the memory. He took a few steps toward the distant city, pulling Eena along. "Come on, let's go have some fun."
"No way." She planted her feet, refusing. Surprisingly it put a stop to him.
"And why not?"
"Because your sudden appearance will upset them! No doubt you'll wa ~ Richelle E. Goodrich
The goddess smiled. "You are a good hero, Percy Jackson. Not too proud. I like that. But you have much to learn. When Dionysus was made a god, I gave up my throne for him. It was the only way to avoid a civil war among the gods."
"It unbalanced the Council," I remembered. "Suddenly there were seven guys and five girls."
Hestia shrugged. "It was the best solution, not a perfect one. Now I tend the fire. I fade slowly into the background. No one will ever write epic poems about the deeds of Hestia. Most demigods don't even stop to talk to me. But that is no matter. I keep the peace. I yield when necessary. Can you do this? ~ Rick Riordan
Limitations, boundaries, comfort zones, knowing when to stop, the point beyond which we do not go without hurting or getting hurt. All are created equal in order to keep us from destroying others and ourselves in the endless pursuit of happiness. Without a few basic guidelines for living happily ever after, the capacity to get lost, seriously hurt, or killed greatly magnifies. ~ Karol Jackowski
The day the soldiers stop bringing you their problems is the day you stopped leading them. They have either lost confidence that you can help them or concluded that you do not care. Either case is a failure of leadership. ~ Colin Powell
Do I have an original thought in my head? My bald head. Maybe if I were happier, my hair wouldn't be falling out.
Life is short. I need to make the most of it. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I'm a walking cliché.
I really need to go to the doctor and have my leg checked. There's something wrong. A bump. The dentist called again. I'm way overdue. If I stop putting things off, I would be happier. All I do is sit on my fat ass. If my ass wasn't fat I would be happier. I wouldn't have to wear these shirts with the tails out all the time. Like that's fooling anyone. Fat ass.
I should start jogging again. Five miles a day. Really do it this time. Maybe rock climbing. I need to turn my life around. What do I need to do? I need to fall in love. I need to have a girlfriend. I need to read more, improve myself. What if I learned Russian or something? Or took up an instrument? I could speak Chinese. I'd be the screenwriter who speaks Chinese and plays the oboe. That would be cool.
I should get my hair cut short. Stop trying to fool myself and everyone else into thinking I have a full head of hair. How pathetic is that?
Just be real. Confident. Isn't that what women are attracted to? Men don't have to be attractive. But that's not true. Especially these days. Almost as much pressure on men as there is on women these days.
Why should I be made to feel I have to apologize for my existence? Maybe it's my brain chemistry. Maybe that's what's wron ~ Charlie Kaufman
You're not going to do something for a certain period of your life and be affected by it, and then stop and go work in a grocery store. You understand certain things and your personality changes. ~ Jill Flint
Because I was dying.
And Warner could've let me die. He was angry and hurt and had every reason to be bitter. I'd just ripped his heart out; I'd let him believe something would come of our relationship. I let him confess the depth of his feelings to me; I let him touch me in ways even Adam hadn't. I didn't ask him to stop.
Every inch of me was saying yes.
And then I took it all back. Because I was scared, and confused, and conflicted. Because of Adam.
Warner told me he loved me, and in return I insulted him and lied to him and yelled at him and pushed him away. And when he had the chance to stand back and watch me die, he didn't.
He found a way to save my life.
With no demands. No expectations. Believing full well that I was in love with someone else, and that saving my life meant making me whole again only to give me back to another guy.
And right now, I can't say I know what Adam would do if I were dying in front of him. I'm not sure if he would save my life. And that uncertainty alone makes me certain that something wasn't right between us. ~ Tahereh Mafi
I walked towards her. Jean-Claude grabbed my arm. "Do not harm her, Anita. She is under our protection."
"I swear to you that I will not lay a finger on her tonight. I just want to tell her something."
He released my arm, slowly, like he wasn't sure it was a good idea. I stepped next to Monica, until our bodies almost touched. I whispered into her face, "If anything happens to Catherine, I will see you dead."
She smirked at me, confident in her protectors. "They will bring me back as one of them."
I felt my head shake, a little to the right, a little to the left, a slow precise movement. "I will cut out your heart." I was still smiling, I couldn'tseem to stop. "Then I will burn it and scatter the ashes in the river. Do you understand me?"
She swallowed audibly. Her health-club tan looked a little green. She nodded, staring at me like I was the bogey man.
I think she believed I'd do it. Peachy keen. I hate to waste a really good threat ~ Laurell K. Hamilton
And Kelly was beginning to see that Sarah didn't let anything stop her, she just went and did it. This whole attitude of not letting other people stop you, of believing that you could do what you wanted, was something she found herself imitating. ~ Michael Crichton
Do books about the Holocaust make us think, "Oh well, there was nothing we could've done to prevent that or prevent it from happening again"? Of course not. It makes us angry and determined to stop such atrocities. ~ James Dashner
I mutter and mutter and no one to listen. I speak my words in Japanese and my daughter will not hear them. The words that come from our ears, our mouths, they collide in the space between us.
"Obachan, please! I wish you would stop that. Is it too much to ask for some peace and quiet? You do this on purpose, don't you? Don't you! I just want some peace. Just stop! Please, just stop."
"Gomennasai. Waruine, Obachan wa. Solly. Solly."
Ha! Keiko, there is method in my madness. I could stand on my head and quote Shakespeare until I had a nosebleed, but to no avail, no one hears my language. So I sit and say the words and will, until the wind or I shall die. Someone, something must stand against this wind and I will. I am. ~ Hiromi Goto
For a bill to become law, it truly has to be the will of the people, and for a president to stop the will of the people and stop what you're trying to do in your state is not the role of Washington. ~ Nikki Haley
I'm not worried about tomorrow. I'm worried about right now, with you, under this Christmas tree." Blake supported her neck as he laid her on the floor.
Livia turned her head. "You'd better convince me. So far you've talked about the dog going to the bathroom, trash, and dirtiness."
Blake kissed her jaw and turned her head gently, kissing her mouth as she bit her lips together.
"Can't I just convince you with my manly ways?" He wiggled his eyebrows.
He could, of course, do just that - but she shook her head. She loved the playful sparkle in his green eyes. His five o'clock shadow just made him more handsome, framing his kissable lips with scruff.
"Okay." He put his fingers at the bottom of her shirt, lifting it gently so he could circle her belly button with his index finger. "You're the sexiest, most beautiful woman on this planet. So sexy, in fact, that I had to have you. I had to make you bear my children because my universe and yours had to be combined. Everything I've ever been needed to be buried inside of you, so deep, so full of love that we created life. Twice."
He lifted her shirt and kissed the tops of her breasts, whispering his devotion into her skin. "And it's never enough. Unless I can hear you coming, I can't think of anything else. All day every day. For years now. You're that powerful, Livia. This. Us. It's so intense that years haven't cured me. I can't stop wanting to make love to you."
"Wow." Livia smiled and pulled ~ Debra Anastasia
To be acknowledged that we do not believe in their misleading notion and fallacy, today, tomorrow and forever even if it costs us our life. They have suffocated people for hundreds of years and if we don't stop them today no one else would do it tomorrow. ~ M.F. Moonzajer
There are, then, two ways of understanding an experience. The first is to compare it with the memories of other experiences, and so to name and define it. This is to interpret it in accordance with the dead and the past. The second is to be aware of it as it is, as when, in the intensity of joy, we forget past and future, let the present be all, and thus do not even stop to think, I am happy. ~ Alan W. Watts
Putin was a former KGB intelligence officer who'd been stationed in East Germany at the Dresden headquarters of the Soviet secret service. Putin has said in interviews that he dreamed as a child of becoming a spy for the communist party in foreign lands, and his time in Dresden exceeded his imagination. Not only was he living out his boyhood fantasy, he and his then-wife also enjoyed the perks of a borderline-European existence. Even in communist East Germany, the standard of living was far more comfortable than life in Russia, and the young Putins were climbing KGB social circles, making influential connections, networking a power base.
The present was bright, and the future looked downright luminous.
Then, the Berlin wall fell, and down with it crashed Putin's world. A few days after the fall, a group of East German protestors gathered at the door of the secret service headquarters building. Putin, fearing the headquarters would be overrun, dialed up a Red Army tank unit stationed nearby to ask for protection. A voice on the other end of the line told him the unit could not do anything without orders from Moscow. And, "Moscow is silent," the man told Putin.
Putin's boyhood dream was dissolving before his eyes, and his country was impotent or unwilling to stop it. Putin despised his government's weakness in the face of threat. It taught him a lesson that would inform his own rule: Power is easily lost when those in power allow it to be tak ~ Matt Szajer
Of course, he showed me this one afternoon when he was skipping class. When trolls cut classes, you think they are losers. When the beautiful and/or reasonably erudite do the same thing to sit on the library steps and read poetry, you think they are on to something deep. You see only deep brown wavy hair and strong legs, well honed by years of Ultimate Frisbee. You see that book of T. S. Eliot poems held by the hand with the long, graceful fingers, and you never stop to think that it shouldn't take half a semester to read one book of poems ... that maybe he is not so much reading as getting really high every morning and sleeping it off on the library steps, forcing the people who actually go to class to step or trip over him. ~ Maureen Johnson
The truth is that things change whether we want them to or not. Becoming attached to things as they are or pushing things away that we do not like does not stop them from changing. It only leads to further suffering. ~ Jack Kornfield
What do you think of when you think of mourning?' Jenny asks.
The question snaps me back to attention. I answer without really thinking. "I guess 'Funeral Blues' by W.H. Auden. I think it was Auden. I suppose that's not very original.'
'I don't know it.'
'It's a poem.'
'I gathered.'
'I'm just clarifying. It's not a blues album.'
Jenny ignores my swipe at her intelligence.
'Does your response need to be original? Isn't that what poetry is for, for the poet to express something so personal that it ultimately is universal?'
I shrug. Who is Jenny, even new Jenny, to say what poetry is for? Who am I for that matter?
'Why do you thin of that poem in particular?'
"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, / Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, / Silence the pianos and with muffled drum / Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.'
I learned the poem in college and it stuck. ~ Steven Rowley
He did not know how long it took, but later he looked back on this time of crying in the corner of the dark cave and thought of it as when he learned the most important rule of survival, which was that feeling sorry for yourself didn't work. It wasn't just that it was wrong to do, or that it was considered incorrect. It was more than that
it didn't work. ~ Gary Paulsen
What do you mean, words whose meanings evolved?" asked Alif. "That doesn't make sense. The Quran is the Quran."
Vikram folded his legs-Alif did not watch this operation closely-and smiled at his audience.
"The convert will understand. How do they translate ذرة in your English interpretation?"
"Atom," said the convert.
You don't find that strange, considering atoms were unknown in the sixth century?"
The convert chewed her lip. "I never thought of that," she said.
"You're right. There's no way atom is the original meaning of that word."
"Ah." Vikram held up two fingers in a sign of benediction. He looked, Alif thought, like some demonic caricature of a saint. "But it is. In the twentieth century, atom became the original meaning of ذرة, because an atom was the tiniest object known to man. Then man split the atom. Today, the original meaning might be hadron. But why stop there? Tomorrow, it might be quark. In a hundred years, some vanishingly small object so foreign to the human mind that only Adam remembers its name. Each of those will be the original meaning of ذرة.
Alif snorted. "That's impossible. ذرة must refer to some fundamental thing. It's attached to an object."
"Yes it is. The smallest indivisible particle. That is the meaning packaged in the word. No part of it lifts out-it does not mean smallest, nor indivisible, nor particle, but all those things at once. Thus, in man's infancy, ذرة was a grain of sand. Then a mote of du ~ G. Willow Wilson
