Quotes About Every Side Of The Moon
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Even if your husband is full of himself, he should be allowed to dream. Let him. Don't burst his bubble. Why would any man want to come home to a wife who rolled her eyes and said, "Right!," every time he had an idea or made a resolution? Maybe your husband wants to run for local political office. You know he doesn't have a prayer. He's running anyway. You want to say, "You've got to be kidding!" But in this case he doesn't want to hear the truth. He wants your support. So give it to him. Call all your friends and tell them to vote for him, stand by his side when he gives speeches, buy buttons and balloons and throw him a campaign party. It doesn't matter if he wins or loses, what matters is that you believe in him. ~ Ellen Fein
And the very important fact that I'm here to worry with you and go through all of this - every little bit of it - by your side, even your worst-case-scenario, should it somehow come to that. You wouldn't be doing any of it alone.'
Her voice drops and she looks down at our hands, fingers entwined, resting on her lap. 'Whatever happens, there will always be us. ~ Tabitha Suzuma
We live in a drug culture! Drugs are everywhere and touted as the panacea for every ailment in our society. We have drugs for hyper children, drugs for depression - some of the most insidious drugs ever - , drugs for allergies, drugs for acne, drugs for emphysema and drugs for erectile disfunction - maybe the most useful of them all. And let's not forget the side effects of these wonder drugs! It's cliche to even talk about drug advertisements and the laundry list of side effects tacked onto the end of them, usually rattled off at warp speed by someone on loan from the local auction house. I've seen ads for acne medicines that include side effects that are potentially fatal! Seriously? "Hey! Buy our Acne-Magic Drug! You'll have crystal clear skin! In your coffin!" What the hell is wrong with us? ~ Steve Bivans
Kiera Michelle Allen, my life was empty before you stepped into it. I thought I had everything I needed, but only because I didn't let myself want anything. And then I saw you, and you burned a hole straight through me. I have never wanted anything more in my life. And I have never been more terrified in all my life. In all my life," he repeated.
…"And then, beyond some miracle that I'll never understand, I got to keep you, and now…I'm only just beginning to understand what it means to truly want something. Because I want so much now. I want to make you happy. I want to give you the world. I want you to be proud of me. I want to comfort you. I want you to comfort me. I want to hold you when you're scared. I want you to hold me when I'm scared. I want to make you laugh. I want to make you blush." Leaning in, he whispered, "I want to make you scream."
…"I want to give you a home. I want to fill it with children. I want to take care of you. I want to grow old with you. I want you by my side, every day." … "I just want you. Do you want me too? ~ S.C. Stephens
Oh just kiss me Baethan!" I shouted, frustrated. This was taking too long.
He laughed lightly. "Not yet."
I rolled my eyes. "Brat."
"Nay love," he responded softly. His eyes met mine as he brushed his knuckles along my cheek. "Nothing is ever rushed with you. Every moment, every touch, every kiss…is an art form. Like a painter working on his masterpiece, I must be patient and precise with each and every stroke."
Oh my.
"Bae, I want to feel your lips upon mine."
"You will," he answered, "but this, this right here, is how a real kiss begins." His hands brushed along my arms and upward, moving slowly as they skimmed passed my chest as light as a feather. Rising higher, his fingers brushed along my neck and tilted my head back, his thumbs anchored on either side of the bottom of my chin. "Close your eyes," he whispered and I realized he was lowering his head, pausing just an inch from my lips. They parted, my breath accelerated as I awaited the tender touch of moist warmth that would follow.
My eyes closed and I breathed, several seconds passing us by as if hours, until his mouth closed over mine. His lips parted as his tongue gently pushed through, briefly, and then he pulled away slightly as his teeth nibbled my bottom lip. He held my face in his hands, and pressed multiple light kisses all over my mouth until I moaned. ~ Nikki Landis
No matter how huge your loss, as long as you remain engaged with your life, the best days of your life may still be ahead of you.
Don't misunderstand me: the pain of your loss will remain with you for the rest of your life. But great joy will be there right beside it.
Deep sorrow and deep joy can exist within you, side by side. At every moment. And it's not confusing. And it's not a conflict. ~ Augusten Burroughs
(A manager) once confided in me she liked to picture in her mind's eye that every employee was wearing one of those sandwich billboard signs. On the front side, the sign would read 'Appreciate Me' and on the back side 'Make Me Feel Important.' ~ James Hunter
Of course, pictures of objects also have this transcendental side to them. Every object, being part of an ultimately incomprehensible world, also embodies that world; when represented in a picture, the object conveys this mystery all the more powerfully, the less of a 'function' the picture has. Hence, for instance, the growing fascination of many beautiful old portraits. ~ Gerhard Richter
How fast can you run?
When you really have to?
In heels and a work skirt, with your bag banging against your side: how fast?
When you're late for your train and you have to get home, and you race down the platform with seconds to spare: how fast can you run?
What if it isn't a train you're running for, but your life?
If you're late home from work, and there's no one in sight. If you haven't charged your phone and no one knows where you are. If the footsteps behind you are getting closer, and you know, because you do it every day, that you're on your own; that between the platform and the exit you won't see another soul.
If there's breath on your neck, and the panic is rising, and it's dark, and cold, and wet.
If it's just the two of you.
Just you, and whoever's behind you.
Whoever is chasing you.
How fast could you run then?
It doesn't matter how fast.
Because there's always someone who can run faster. ~ Clare Mackintosh
There was indeed a caste system in Maycomb, but to my mind it worked this way: the older citizens, the present generation of people who had lived side by side for years and years, were utterly predictable to one another: they took for granted attitudes, character
shadings, even gestures, as having been repeated in each generation and refined by time. Thus the dicta No Crawford Minds His Own Business, Every Third Merriweather Is Morbid, The Truth Is Not in the Delafields, All the Bufords Walk Like That, were simply guides to daily living: never take a check from a Delafield without a discreet call to the
bank; Miss Maudie Atkinson's shoulder stoops because she was a Buford; if Mrs. Grace Merriweather sips gin out of Lydia E. Pinkham bottles it's nothing unusual - her mother did the same. ~ Harper Lee
You have to change those diapers every day. When those directions on the side of the Pampers box say, 'holds 6-12 pounds' they're not kidding! ~ Jeff Foxworthy
The human race is the most stupid and unfair kind of race. A lot of the runners don't even get decent sneakers or clean drinking water.
Some runners are born with a massive head start, every possible help along the way and still the referees seem to be on their side.
It's not surprising a lot of people have given up compeating altogether and gone to sit in the grandstand, eat junk and shout abuse.
What the human race needs is a lot more streakers. ~ Banksy
The objection that science is self-correcting and thus needs no outside interference overlooks, first, that every enterprise is self-correcting (look at what happened to the Catholic Church after Vatican II) and, secondly, that in a democracy the self-correction of the whole which tries to achieve more humane ways of living overrules the self-correction of the parts which has a more narrow aim -- unless the parts are given temporary independence. Hence in a democracy local populations not only will, but also should, use the sciences in ways most suitable to them. The objection that citizens do not have the expertise to judge scientific matters overlooks that important problems often lie across the boundaries of various sciences so that scientists within these sciences don't have the needed expertise either. Moreover, doubtful cases always produce experts for the one side, experts for the other side, and experts in between. But the competence of the general public could be vastly improved by an education that exposes expert fallibility instead of acting as if it did not exist. (Chapter 19) ~ Paul Karl Feyerabend
As I have heard, since my arrival at this place, a circumstantial account of my death and dying speech, I take this early opportunity of contradicting the first, and of assuring you, that I have not as yet composed the latter. But by the All-Powerful Dispensations of Providence, I have been protected beyond all human probability or expectation; for I had four bullets through my coat, and two horses shot under me, yet escaped unhurt, although death was leveling my companions on every side of me! ~ George Washington
To constantly have at your side a woman,an unmarried woman,a sister,a wonderful person who is there because you need her and because she can't do without you,to know that you are indispensable to the one you need, to be endlessly able to measure her affection by the amount of presence she grants you and to say to your self, "since she devotes all her time to me,that means i have her whole heart";to see her thoughts,if not her face,to weigh one being's faithfulness when the rest of the world has been eclipsed,to detect the rustling of her dress as though it were the sound of wings,to hear her coming and going,going out,coming back,talking,singing,and to know you are the centre of every step she takes,of every word,of every song,to manifest your own gravitational pull every minute of the day,to feel yourself your infirmity,to become in darkness,and through darkness,the star around which this angel revolves-few worms of bliss come anywhere near it!The ultimate happiness in life is the conviction that one is loved;loved for oneself-better still,loved in spite of oneself.And this conviction is what the blind have.In such distress,to be waited on is to be hugged and kissed. ~ Victor Hugo
You think it is so different because you live here in this time, in this place, because I'm from the far side of the sea. But we are attached by the water between us. It is the same tide and moon, the same sea, love, fear, losing, and death. Love does not change with time. The love that fills us and empties us, that clips our wings so that
we must decide whether to learn to fly after that. To love or to fear. ~ Patti Callahan Henry
Social conservatives do have a pretty decent predictive track record, including in many cases where their fears were dismissed as wild and apocalyptic, their projections as sky-is-falling nonsense, their theories of how society and human nature works as evidence-free fantasies. . . . If you look at the post-1960s trend data - whether it's on family structure and social capital, fertility and marriage rates, patterns of sexual behavior and their links to flourishing relationships, or just trends in marital contentment and personal happiness more generally - the basic social conservative analysis has turned out to have more predictive power than my rigorously empirical liberal friends are inclined to admit. . . .
In the late 1960s and early '70s, the pro-choice side of the abortion debate frequently predicted that legal abortion would reduce single parenthood and make marriages more stable, while the pro-life side made the allegedly-counterintuitive claim that it would have roughly the opposite effect; overall, it's fair to say that post-Roe trends were considerably kinder to Roe's critics than to the "every child a wanted child" conceit. Conservatives (and not only conservatives) also made various "dystopian" predictions about eugenics and the commodification of human life as reproductive science advanced in the '70s, while many liberals argued that these fears were overblown; today, from "selective reduction" to the culling of Down's Syndrome fetuses to worldwide tr ~ Ross Douthat
Wilson dug into his pockets, feeling in every one. Then he tried his car doors. I could have told him they were all locked, but I wisely remained silent. I suppose that would be twelve things: I can be wise.
"Bollocks!" He pressed his face up against the car window, hands shielding his eyes on either side. "Blast!"
"You have a filthy mouth, Mr. Wilson," I chided, trying not to laugh. "Isn't saying blast like saying the F word in England?"
"What? No! Bugger, blast and bloody are fairly tame . . . like damn."
"And bollocks? That sounds downright profane." It really didn't, but I found I was enjoying myself. "Soon you'll be saying fiddlesticks! I don't think Principal Beckstead would approve."
"My keys are in the ignition," Wilson groaned, ignoring me. He straightened and looked down at me soberly. "We're walking, Blue, unless you're willing to admit you have certain skills . . . breaking and entering, perhaps?"
"I don't need skills to break and enter. I just need tools – and I don't have any of them on me," I retorted flatly. "We could shove your big violin through your car window, though."
"Always a smartarse," Wilson turned and began walking toward the road.
"I live about four miles away in that direction," I offered, hobbling along after him.
"Oh, good. I live six. That means for at least two miles, I will not have to listen to you snipe at me," Wilson grumbled.
I burst out laughing. He really was cranky ~ Amy Harmon
Poetry is the dark side of the moon, ~ Charles Wright
Some people buried their fears in food, she knew, and some in booze, and some in planning elaborate engagements and weddings and other life events that took up every spare moment of their time, in case unpleasant thoughts intruded. But for Nina, whenever reality, or the grimmer side of reality, threatened to invade, she always turned to a book. Books had been her solace when she was sad; her friends when she was lonely. They had mended her heart when it was broken, and encouraged her to hope when she was down. Yet ~ Jenny Colgan
This time I did not have to question the source of his snarls and hisses, and of the fear which made him sink his claws into my ankle, unconscious of their effect; for on every side of the chamber the walls were alive with nauseous sound - the verminous slithering of ravenous, gigantic rats. ~ H.P. Lovecraft
No matter what difficulty you are facing, it is coming from Divine Light to bring you to a higher place within. Write down every conceivable reason that this situation can contribute towards your growth. Write down every way this experience can possibly set the stage for serving to uplift others. When you are complete, and have come to the other side of this experience, you will then know 'why' it happened. ~ Barbara Rose
Let only that little be left of me whereby I may name thee my all.
Let only that little be left of my will whereby I may feel thee on every side, and come to thee in everything, and offer to thee my love every moment. Let only that little be left of me whereby I may never hide thee.
Let only that little of my fetters be left whereby I am bound with thy will, and thy purpose is carried out in my life
and that is the fetter of thy love. ~ Rabindranath Tagore
She looked up at him, wondering when it was that this man, her brother, had become so wise. If he'd yelled one more word, spent one more minute speaking to her in that mocking voice, she would have broke. She would have broke, or she would have hardened, but either way, something between them would have been ruined.
But here he was, Anthony of all people, who was arrogant and proud and every inch the arch nobleman he'd been born to be, kneeling at her side, placing his hand on hers, and speaking with a kindness that nearly broke her heart. ~ Julia Quinn
[Tolstoy] denounced [many historians'] lamentable tendency to simplify. The experts stumble onto a battlefield, into a parliament or public square, and demand, "Where is he? Where is he?" "Where is who?" "The hero, of course! The leader, the creator, the great man!" And having found him, they promptly ignore all his peers and troops and advisors. They close their eyes and abstract their Napoleon from the mud and the smoke and the masses on either side, and marvel at how such a figure could possibly have prevailed in so many battles and commanded the destiny of an entire continent. "There was an eye to see in this man," wrote Thomas Carlyle about Napoleon in 1840, "a soul to dare and do. He rose naturally to be the King. All men saw that he was such."
But Tolstoy saw differently. "Kings are the slaves of history," he declared. "The unconscious swarmlike life of mankind uses every moment of a king's life as an instrument for its purposes." Kings and commanders and presidents did not interest Tolstoy. History, his history, looks elsewhere: it is the study of infinitely incremental, imperceptible change from one state of being (peace) to another (war).
The experts claimed that the decisions of exceptional men could explain all of history's great events. For the novelist, this belief was evidence of their failure to grasp the reality of an incremental change brought about by the multitude's infinitely small actions. ~ Daniel Tammet
Oh, I'm real. I'm the story of Sheresa. I write a little bit of the fiction of me every day. You see what I'm talking about? Then once you have the boundaries of history and fiction secure, where does everything else fall? Somewhere in between the two. History holds up one side of our lives and fiction the other. Mother, father. Birth, death, and in between, that's where you find religion. That's where you find art, science, engineering. It's where things get made from belief and memory. ~ Samantha Hunt
[T]he mystery of the Trinity is the mystery of Holiness: the Glory and the Power of the Trinity is the Glory and Power of God who makes us holy. There is God dwelling in light inaccessibly, a consuming fire of Holy Love, destroying all that resists, glorifying into its own purity all that yields. There is the Son, casting Himself into that consuming fire, whether in its eternal blessedness in heaven, or its angry wrath on earth, a willing sacrifice, to be its food and its satisfaction, as well as the revelation of its power to destroy and to save. And there is the Spirit of Holiness, the flames of that mighty fire spreading on every side, convicting and judging as the Spirit of Burning, and then transforming into its own brightness and holiness all that it can reach. All the relations of the Three Persons to each other and to us have their root and their meaning in the revelation of God as the Holy One. As we know and partake of Him, we shall know and partake of Holiness. ~ Andrew Murray
It'd make a wonderful change to have the leader of a pluralist democracy who acted on that, who told people just how tough things are going to be, just what's going to have to be done - and, maybe, ran all the risks on the side of honesty, rather than spinning stories and trying to win the headlines every day. ~ Chris Patten
Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide,
In the strife of truth and falsehood, for the good or evil side;
Some great cause, some new decision, offering each bloom or blight,
And the choice goes by forever twixt that darkness and that light. ~ James Russell Lowell
I am absolutely opposed to political correctness. You cannot confront hate speech until you've experienced it. You need to hear every side of the issue instead of just one. ~ Jane Elliott
It's not destiny, Ox. You're not bound by this. Not yet. There's a choice. There is always a choice. My wolf chose you. I chose you. And if you don't choose me, then that's your choice and I will walk out of here knowing you got to choose your own path. But I swear to god, if you choose me, I will make sure that you know the weight of your worth every day for the rest of our lives because that's what this is. I am going to be a fucking Alpha one day, and there is no one I'd rather have by my side than you. It's you, Ox. For me, it's always been you." So I said, "Okay, Joe." I looked up at him. His wolf was close to the surface. And he said, "Okay?" I said, "Okay. Okay. I don't know if I see the things you do." "I know." "And I don't know if I'll be good enough." "I know you will," he said, eyes flashing orange. "But I promised you. I said it will always be you and me." His face stuttered a bit, and he said, "You did. You promised me. You promised." I ~ T.J. Klune
Would we get on well together, do you think?" she asked dubiously, daring to play with the knot of his necktie, loosening the gray watered-silk fabric with her fingertips. "We're opposites in nearly every regard."
Inclining his head, Marcus nuzzled the tender inside of her wrist, his lips brushing the blue-tinted veins that lay like fine lacework beneath the skin. "I am coming to believe that taking a wife who is exactly like myself would be the worst conceivable decision I could make."
"Perhaps you're right," Lillian mused, letting her fingertips curl into the gleaming close-cut hair at the side of his head. "You need a wife who won't let you have your way all the time. One who…" She paused with a little shiver as his tongue touched a delicate spot near her inner elbow. "Who," she continued, struggling to gather her thoughts, "would be willing to take you down a notch when you become too pompous…"
"I am never pompous," Marcus said, drawing the edge of her gown away from the vulnerable curve of her throat.
Her breath hitched as he began to kiss the wing of her collarbone. "What would you call it when you carry on as if you always know best, and anyone who disagrees with you is an idiot?"
"Most of the time, the people who disagree with me do happen to be idiots. I can't help that. ~ Lisa Kleypas
Education, you know, means broadening, advancing; and if you limit a teacher to only one side of anything, the whole country will eventually have only one thought, be one individual. I believe in teaching every aspect of every problem or theory. ~ John T. Scopes
With horror he perceived that, by uniting himself as he had with the dead, he had cut himself off from the living. Stripped of all earthly hope, bereft of every consolation, he was rendered as poor as mortal can possibly
be on this side of the grave. ~ Johann Ludwig Tieck
Will. For a moment her heart hesitated. She remembered when Will had died, her agony, the long nights alone, reaching across the bed every morning when she woke up, for years expecting to find him there, and only slowly growing accustomed to the fact that side of the bed would always be empty. The moments when she had found something funny and turned to share the joke with him, only to be shocked anew that he was not there. The worst moments, when, sitting alone at breakfast, she had realized that she had forgotten the precise blue of his eyes or the depth of his laugh; that, like the sound of Jem's violin music, they had faded into the distance where memories are silent. ~ Cassandra Clare
But what is this state? It is like a morning of spring, varied in its life and beauty, yet one and entire.
All the conflicts and contradictions of life are reconciled; knowledge, love and action harmonized; pleasure and pain become one in beauty, enjoyment and renunciation equal in goodness; the breach between the finite and the infinite fills with love and overflows; every moment carries its message of the eternal; the formless appears to us in the form of the flower, of the fruit; the boundless takes us up in his arms as a father and walks by our side as a friend.
While yet we have not attained the internal harmony, and the wholeness of our being, our life remains a life of habits. The world still appears to us as a machine, to be mastered where it is useful, to be guarded against where it is dangerous, and never to be known in its full fellowship with us, alike in its physical nature and in its spiritual life and beauty. ~ Rabindranath Tagore
The Sun burned down in a warm contrasting world of white and black, of white Sun against black sky and white rolling ground mottled with black shadow. The bright sweet smell of the Sun on every exposed square centimeter of metal contrasting with the creeping death-of-aroma on the other side.
He lifted his hand and stared at it, counting the fingers. Hot-hot-hot-turning, putting each finger, one by one, into the shadow of the others and the hot slowly dying in a change in tactility that made him feel the clean, comfortable vacuum.
Yet not entirely vacuum. He straightened and lifted both arms over his head, stretching them out, and the sensitive spots on either wrist felt the vapors- the thin, faint touch of tin and lead rolling through the cloy of mercury.
The thicker taste rose from his feet; the silicates of each variety, marked by the clear separate-and-together touch and tang of each metal ion. He moved one foot slowly through the crunchy, caked dust, and felt the changes like a soft, not quite random symphony.
And over all the Sun. He looked up at it, large and fat and bright and hot, and heard its joy. He watched the slow rise of prominences around its rim and listened to the crackling sound of each; and to the other happy noises over the broad face. When he dimmed the background light, the red of the rising wisps of hydrogen showed in bursts of mellow contralto, and the deep bass of the spots amid the muted whistling of the wi ~ Isaac Asimov
A good conscience is a port which is landlocked on every side, where no winds can possibly invade. There a man may not only see his own image, but that of his Maker, clearly reflected from the undisturbed waters. ~ John Dryden