Everything Falls Into Place Quotes

Being on a boat that's moving through the water, it's so clear. Everything falls into place in terms of what's important and what's not. ~ James Taylor

One has to be alone, under the sky, Before everything falls into place and one finds his or her own place in the midst of it all. We have to have the humility to realize ourselves as part of nature. ~ Thomas Merton

If you're on the path you're meant to be on, everything falls into place; the Universe is telling you that. If you are not on the right path, you will experience roadblocks all along the way, and this is also the Universe telling you to stop, look, and ask if this is where you are supposed to be. ~ James Van Praagh

It is a well-known established fact throughout the many-dimensional worlds of the multiverse that most really great discoveries are owed to one brief moment of inspiration. There's a lot of spadework first, of course, but what clinches the whole thing is the sight of, say, a falling apple or a boiling kettle or the water slipping over the edge of the bath. Something goes click inside the observer's head and then everything falls into place. The shape of DNA, it is popularly said, owes its discovery to the chance sight of a spiral staircase when the scientist=s mind was just at the right receptive temperature. Had he used the elevator, the whole science of genetics might have been a good deal different.

This is thought of as somehow wonderful. It isn't. It is tragic. Little particles of inspiration sleet through the universe all the time traveling through the densest matter in the same way that a neutrino passes through a candyfloss haystack, and most of them miss.

Even worse, most of the ones that hit the exact cerebral target, hit the wrong one.

For example, the weird dream about a lead doughnut on a mile-high gantry, which in the right mind would have been the catalyst for the invention of repressed-gravitational electricity generation (a cheap and inexhaustible and totally non-polluting form of power which the world in question had been seeking for centuries, and for the lack of which it was plunged into a terrible and pointless war) was in ~ Terry Pratchett

You did all this," I breathe heavy with awe. "You gave them the courage to take a stand."
He shakes his head. "No. You did. You started all this," he leans in, his lips hot and warm breath tickling against my ear. "You gave me the strength," he sucks in a quick breathe and lets out a laughing exhale. "You gave me the strength to break free of all these ridiculous canons of public behavior."
I smile, partly because I find his sophisticated speech funny, but mostly because he makes my heart bounce.
I don't believe it was me who inspired all these people. It's obvious it was David. But I did manage to inspire. I inspired David and that's all it takes. It takes for just one person to make a stand, and another to be moved and inspired by that one brave act. Gravity takes care of the rest as the word spreads and everything falls into place. ~ David R. Torres

You make me feel this, this thing inside that makes me me. And I think I might be addicted to that feeling. I crave it. All the time. You know how I crawled into your lap that day? ... I want to be able to do that whenever I want. It makes me whole, Rahul. It makes everything all right. Maybe just for a few moments, but when you hold me, everything falls into place, here. ~ Sonali Dev

Everything falls into place for the man who knows how to wait. ~ Leo Tolstoy

Sometimes all it takes is one Deep Breath and everything falls into place. ~ Liz Hester

I guess that's the way secrets are. They're only heavy when you're holding them. As soon as you let go, the significance of keeping those secrets hidden blows away and everything falls into place. ~ Cassia Leo

We can block our blessings with one thought, one decision. Sometimes your blessing may require certain actions on your behalf. You asked for the job? Now, you must get dressed and go to the interview and prove yourself worthy of the position. When you move, you activate your faith. And, suddenly everything falls into place. Faith without works is dead. ~ Amaka Imani Nkosazana

Once you figure out who you are and what you love about yourself, I think it all kind of falls into place. ~ Jennifer Aniston

You can plan for things, work towards them for years, and yet they never materialize. Or you can just happen to be in the right place at the right moment, and everything falls into place. If you want to believe in something like Fate, she's a capricious character. Sometimes she stand there blocking the doorway you were born to pass through, and sometimes she takes you by the hand and leads you through the minute you poke your nose out. And the stars gaze down and keep their counsel. ~ John Ajvide Lindqvist

Ego says, "Once everything falls into place, I'll feel peace."
Spirit says, "Find your peace, and then everything will fall into place. ~ Marianne Williamson

A message to women in general is be happy with yourself first. Be sure that you take care of yourself and find yourself. Be comfortable! And you will be way more appealing. Do what's best for you, and everything will fall into place. ~ Raven Goodwin

When it's not always raining there'll be days like this. When there's no one complaining there'll be days like this. When everything falls into place like the flick of a switch. Well my mama told me there'll be days like this. ~ Van Morrison

I have a great support system and I know how to prioritize everything. I strive to keep God in every aspect of my life so that's important, because some days, it requires you to have a great deal of strength. Then, my family is second and it's in that specific order. I look around and I see how everything falls into place once you know which comes first. ~ Heather Headley

This is the greatest mystery of the human mind
the inductive leap. Everything falls into place, irrelevancies relate, dissonance becomes harmony, and nonsense wears a crown of meaning. But the clarifying leap springs from the rich soil of confusion, and the leaper is not unfamiliar with pain. ~ John Steinbeck

People live to love; but then they realize that love is nothing. Love is just desire and longing; the culmination of a moment where everything falls into place. The moment passes. Things fall out of place. ~ Umair Naeem

Remuneration, promotion and perks - everything falls into place if you enjoy your work. ~ Jack Canfield

A small shift in perspective and everything falls into place ~ Jessica Brody

This is like coming home, like coming home after years away among Trojans and Lestrygonians, like coming home to a place where everyone is like you, where people know, they just know - coming home as when everything falls into place and you suddenly realize that for seventeen years all you'd been doing was fiddling with the wrong combination. ~ Andre Aciman

An awful lot of fantasy, and even some great fantasy, falls into the mistake of assuming that a good man will be a good king, that all that is necessary is to be a decent human being and when you're king everything will go swimmingly. ~ George R R Martin

To have humility is to experience reality, not in relation to ourselves, but in its sacred independence. It is to see, judge, and act from the point of rest in ourselves. Then, how much disappears, and all that remains falls into place.
In the point of rest at the center of our being, we encounter a world where all things are at rest in the same way. Then a tree becomes a mystery, a cloud a revelation, each man a cosmos of whose riches we can only catch glimpses. The life of simplicity is simple, but it opens to us a book in which we never get beyond the first syllable. ~ Dag Hammarskjold

I guess there's this mind shift that happens once you're on stage. I don't know, chemicals, something happens and you just ... I just become completely in control of where I am. And it's all about trusting the people that you're on the stage with, listening ... and it just falls into place really easily. ~ Deborah Mailman

Moxie's body relaxes and her shoulder leans against his. The pressure is warm and soft and everything. And he falls into it. Just a little. He won't let himself get too comfortable - he's not that stupid. But for the barest moment between patchwork frowns, he's wanted. ~ C.G. Drews

Rapture

I can feel she has got out of bed.
That means it is seven a.m.
I have been lying with eyes shut,
thinking, or possibly dreaming,
of how she might look if, at breakfast,
I spoke about the hidden place in her
which, to me, is like a soprano's tremolo,
and right then, over toast and bramble jelly,
if such things are possible, she came.
I imagine she would show it while trying to conceal it.
I imagine her hair would fall about her face
and she would become apparently downcast,
as she does at a concert when she is moved.
The hypnopompic play passes, and I open my eyes
and there she is, next to the bed,
bending to a low drawer, picking over
various small smooth black, white,
and pink items of underwear. She bends
so low her back runs parallel to the earth,
but there is no sway in it, there is little burden, the day has hardly begun.
The two mounds of muscles for walking, leaping, lovemaking,
lift toward the east - what can I say?
Simile is useless; there is nothing like them on earth.
Her breasts fall full; the nipples
are deep pink in the glare shining up through the iron bars
of the gate under the earth where those who could not love
press, wanting to be born again.
I reach out and take her wrist
and she falls back into bed and at once starts unbuttoning my pajamas.
Later, when I open my eyes, there she is again,
~ Galway Kinnell

My delightful, my love, my life, I don't understand anything: how can you not be with me? I'm so infinitely used to you that I now feel myself lost and empty: without you, my soul. You turn my life into something light, amazing, rainbowed - you put a glint of happiness on everything - always different: sometimes you can be smoky-pink, downy, sometimes dark, winged - and I don't know when I love your eyes more - when they are open or shut. It's eleven p.m. now: I'm trying with all the force of my soul to see you through space; my thoughts plead for a heavenly visa to Berlin via air . . . My sweet excitement . . .

Today I can't write about anything except my longing for you. I'm gloomy and fearful: silly thoughts are swarming - that you'll stumble as you jump out of a carriage in the underground, or that someone will bump into you in the street . . . I don't know how I'll survive the week.

My tenderness, my happiness, what words can I write for you? How strange that although my life's work is moving a pen over paper, I don't know how to tell you how I love, how I desire you. Such agitation - and such divine peace: melting clouds immersed in sunshine - mounds of happiness. And I am floating with you, in you, aflame and melting - and a whole life with you is like the movement of clouds, their airy, quiet falls, their lightness and smoothness, and the heavenly variety of outline and tint - my inexplicable love. I cannot express these cirrus-cumulus sensations ~ Vladimir Nabokov

Of course a miracle may happen, and you may be a great painter, but you must confess the chances are a million to one against it. It'll be an awful sell if at the end you have to acknowledge you've made a hash of it."
"I've got to paint," he repeated.
"Supposing you're never anything more than third-rate, do you think it will have been worth while to give up everything? After all, in any other walk in life it doesn't matter if you're not very good; you can get along quite comfortably if you're just adequate; but it's different with an artist."
"You blasted fool," he said.
"I don't see why, unless it's folly to say the obvious."
"I tell you I've got to paint. I can't help myself. When a man falls into the water it doesn't matter how he swims, well or badly: he's got to get out or else he'll drown. ~ W. Somerset Maugham

It even seems as if the ego has not been produced by nature to follow its own arbitrary impulses to an unlimited extent, but to help to make real the totality-the whole psyche. It is the ego that serves to light up the entire system, allowing it to become conscious and thus to be realized. If, for example, I have an artistic talent of which my ego is not conscious, nothing will happen to it. The gift may as well be non-existent. Only if my ego notices it can I bring it into reality. The inborn but hidden totality of the psyche is not the same thing as a wholeness that is fully realized and lived.

One could picture this in the following way: The seed of a mountain pine contains the whole future tree in a latent form; but each seed falls at a certain time onto a particular place, in which there are a number of special factors, such as the quality of the soil and the stones, the slope of the land, and its exposure to the sun and wind. The latent totality of the pine in the seed reacts to these cicumstances by avoiding the stones and inclining toward the sun, with the result that the tree's growth is shaped. Thus an individual pine slowly comes into existence, constituting the fulfillment of its totality, its emergence into the realm of reality. Without the living tree, the image of the pine is only a possibility or an abstract idea. Again, the realization of this uniqueness in the individual man is the goal of the process of individuation. ~ C.G. Jung

You think you cannot live anymore. You think that the light of your soul has been put out and that you will stay in the dark forever. But when you are engulfed by such solid darkness, when you have both eyes closed to the world, a third eye opens in your heart. And only then do you come to realize that eyesight conflicts with inner knowledge. No eye sees so clear and sharp as the eye of love. After grief comes another season, another valley, another you. And the lover who is nowhere to be found, you start to see everywhere.
You see him in the drop of water that falls into the ocean, in the high tide that follows the waxing of the moon, or in the morning wind that spreads its fresh smell; you see him in the geomancy symbols in the sand, in the tiny particles of rock glittering under the sun, in the smile of a newborn baby, or in your throbbing vein. How can you say Shams is gone when he is everywhere and in everything? ~ Elif Shafak

You know better than anyone that nothing lasts. Nothing good. Nothing bad. Everything lives. Everything dies. Sometimes cities just fall into the sea. It's not a tragedy, that's just the way it is. People look around them and see the world and say this is how the world is supposed to be. Then they fight to keep it that way. They believe that this is what was intended - whether by design or cosmic accident - and that everything exists in a tenuous balance that must be preserved. But the balance is bullshit. The only thing constant in this world is the speed at which things change. Rain falls, waters rise, shorelines erode. What is one day magnificent seaside property in ancient Greece is the next resting thirty feet below the surface. Islands rise from the sea and continents crack and part ways forever. What was once a verdant forest teeming with life is now resting one thousand feet beneath a sheet of ice in Antarctica; what was once a glorious church now rests at the bottom of a dammed-up lake in Kansas. The job of nature is to march on and keep things going; ours is to look around, appreciate it, and wonder what's next? ~ C. Robert Cargill

His wide mouth falls into amused lines. Everything dies. There's no way to stop that tide. In the end, all we have is the pleasure we take from life. For my people, it's not long. I can spend my time crying or I can live . I can seek wonder. Haven't you ever noticed that people tend to find what they're looking for, my friend? ~ Ann Aguirre

Some things I think are very conservative, or very liberal. I think when someone falls into one category for everything, I'm very suspicious. It doesn't make sense to me that you'd have the same solution to every issue. ~ Louis C.K.

That pretty much nailed that, and it was pretty late by now, so I dragged myself upstairs and got into my office – or… my bed – and tried to work on the figures for the café. I run a guinea-pig-themed café. But it's out of cash and it's going to close unless a cheque falls out of the sky, or a banker comes on my arse, but neither are going to happen, and I don't want to dignify the banker-man with a proper mention so I'm not going to talk about him or how I do sometimes wish I could own up to not having morals and just let him come on my arse for ten thousand pounds, but apparently we're 'not supposed to do that', so okay. I won't. Even though it would solve everything. I won't. ~ Phoebe Waller-Bridge

You don't want to know the Truth, you want to know the truth as you understand it. This is the greatest barrier to your enlightenment. You think you already know the truth! You think you already understand how it is. So you agree with everything you see or hear or read that falls into the paradigm of your understanding, and reject everything which does not. ~ Neale Donald Walsch

As Will stood watching Pen, just before he turned away, his initial astonishment shifted into something quieter. Soon, she will see me; we'll sit someplace and talk, he thought. He felt like a kid who falls asleep on a long car trip, wakes up, and looks out the window to find that he's in a new place, or home, and that it's morning. ~ Marisa De Los Santos

The world rests in the night. Trees, mountains, fields, and faces are released from the prison of shape and the burden of exposure. Each thing creeps back into its own nature within the shelter of the dark. Darkness is the ancient womb. Nighttime is womb- time. Our souls come out to play. The darkness absolves everything; the struggle for identity and impression falls away. We rest in the night. ~ John O'Donohue

If you write really good material, the rest just falls into place. There's really no trick to it. ~ Seth Grahame-Smith

A fool falls in love. One who dwells in indifference dwells at a distance from love, from its unexpected currents and the lonesome tumbling that causes a person to fall on her knees, if she falls. And there is never any reason to fall, to become so attached to another that one is driven to say, "I once fell in love,' followed by an ellipsis, '…', a trail leading down a path into - what? Some fatal dream? One grows weak from conflating the future and past, and the ellipsis, '…', always leads into an exposed empty vat, the interior of an urn whose lid has been removed, whose ashes have been spread into water where, in time, everything dissolves, giving way to the past. ~ Claire Donato

I studied acting for five years. I quit college at that point. You know, I go hard. When I know I'm supposed to go in a direction, I'm fully committed and I go all the way. Everything falls to the side and I'm all in. So I completely dove into acting even though I was almost 30. ~ Sonja Sohn

We can never go back. We can rise up from our failures, screwups, and falls, but we can never go back to where we stood before we were brave or before we fell. Courage transforms the emotional structure of our being. This change often brings a deep sense of loss. During the process of rising, we sometimes find ourselves homesick for a place that no longer exists. We want to go back to that moment before we walked into the arena, but there's nowhere to go back to. What makes this more difficult is that now we have a new level of awareness about what it means to be brave. We can't fake it anymore. We now know when we're showing up and when we're hiding out, when we are living our values and when we are not. Our new awareness can also be invigorating - it can reignite our sense of purpose and remind ~ Brene Brown

Something not going well, Mr. Boxley?"
The novelist looked back at him in thunderous silence.
"I read your letter," said Stahr. The tone of the pleasant young headmaster was gone. He spoke as to an equal, but with a faint two-edged deference.
"I can't get what I write on paper," broke out Boxley. "You've all been very decent, but it's a sort of conspiracy. Those two hacks you've teamed me with listen to what I say, but they spoil it--they seem to have a vocabulary of about a hundred words."
"Why don't you write it yourself?" asked Stahr.
"I have. I sent you some."
"But it was just talk, back and forth," said Stahr mildly. "Interesting talk but nothing more."
Now it was all the two ghostly attendants could do to hold Boxley in the deep chair. He struggled to get up; he uttered a single quiet bark which had some relation to laughter but non to amusement, and said:
"I don't think you people read things. The men are duelling when the conversation takes place. At the end one of them falls into a well and has to be hauled up in a bucket."
He barked again and subsided.
Would you write that in a book of your own, Mr. Boxley?"
"What? Naturally not."
"You'd consider it too cheap."
"Movie standards are different," said Boxley, hedging.
"Do you ever go to them?"
"No--almost never."
"Isn't it because people are always duelling and falling down wells?"
Yes--and wearing strained facial expressions and talk ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

Truth needs meditative eyes. If you don't have meditative eyes, then the whole life is just dull dead facts, unrelated to each other, accidental, meaningless, a jumble, just a chance phenomenon. If you see the truth, everything falls into line, everything falls together in a harmony, everything starts having significance. ~ Rajneesh

Sometimes when we think our lives are falling apart what we don't see, is that they might just be falling into place. ~ L.J. Vanier

The science fiction writer cuts out her heart. It is a thousand hearts. It is all the hearts she will ever have. It is her only child's dead heart. It is the heart of herself when she is old and nothing she ever wrote can be revised again. It is a heart that says with its wet beating mouth: Time is the same thing as light. Both arrive long after they began, bearing sad messages. How lovely you are. I love you.
The science fiction writer steals her heart from herself to bring it into the light. She escapes her old heart through a smoke hole and becomes a self-referencing system of imperfect, but elegant, memory. She sews up her heart into her own leg and gives birth to it twenty years later on the long highway to Ohio. The heat of herself dividing echoes forward and back, and she accretes, bursts, and begins again the long process of her own super-compression until her heart is an egg containing everything. She eats of her heart and knows she is naked. She throws her heart into the abyss and it falls a long way, winking like a red star. ~ Catherynne M. Valente

Context is everything in both narrative and real life, and while the accusation is never that these creators deliberately set out to discriminate against gay and female characters, the unavoidable implication is that they should have known better than to add to the sum total of those stories which, en masse, do exactly that. And if the listmakers can identify the trend so thoroughly – if, despite all the individual qualifications, protests and contextualisations of the authors, these problems can still be said to exist – then the onus, however disconnected from the work of any one individual, nonetheless falls to those individuals, in their role as cultural creators, to acknowledge the problem; to do better next time; perhaps even to apologise. This last is a particular sticking point. By and large, human beings tend not to volunteer apologies for things they perceive to be the fault of other people, for the simple reason that apology connotes guilt, and how can we feel guilty – or rather, why should we – if we're not the ones at fault? But while we might argue over who broke a vase, the vase itself is still broken, and will remain so, its shards ground into the carpet, until
someone decides to clean it up.

Blog Post: Love Team Freezer ~ Foz Meadows

The big question in cosmology in the early 1960s was did the universe have a beginning? Many scientists were instinctively opposed to the idea, because they felt that a point of creation would be a place where science broke down. One would have to appeal to religion and the hand of God to determine how the universe would start off. This was clearly a fundamental question, and it was just what I needed to complete my PhD thesis.
Roger Penrose had shown that once a dying star had contracted to a certain radius, there would inevitably be a singularity, that is a point where space and time came to an end. Surely, I thought, we already knew that nothing could prevent a massive cold star from collapsing under its own gravity until it reached a singularity of infinite density. I realised that similar arguments could be applied to the expansion of the universe. In this case, I could prove there were singularities where space–time had a beginning.
A eureka moment came in 1970, a few days after the birth of my daughter, Lucy. While getting into bed one evening, which my disability made a slow process, I realised that I could apply to black holes the casual structure theory I had developed for singularity theorems. If general relativity is correct and the energy density is positive, the surface area of the event horizon - the boundary of a black hole - has the property that it always increases when additional matter or radiation falls into it. Moreover, if two black holes coll ~ Stephen Hawking

All right then, you should know that you missed out on mocha sugar donuts."
My mouth falls open. "How'd you get those? I thought the shop didn't open that early!"
"I went out and got them last night specifically for the bus ride," Peter says. "For you and me."
Aw. I'm touched. "Well, are there any left?"
"Nope. I ate them all."
He looks so smug that I reach out and swat at his hoodie strings. "You creep," I say, but I mean it affectionately.
Peter grabs my hand mid-swat and says, "Wanna hear something funny?"
"What?"
"I think I started liking you."
I go completely still. Then I pull my hand away from his, and I start to gather my hair into a ponytail, and then I remember I don't have a hair tie. My heart is thudding in my chest and it's hard to think all of a sudden. "Stop teasing."
"I'm not teasing. Why do you think I kissed you that day at McClaren's house back in seventh grade? It's why I went along with this thing in the first place. I've always thought you were cute."
My face feels hot. "In a quirky way."
Peter grins his perfect grin. "So? I guess I must like quirky, then. ~ Jenny Han

From 1936 on, I have taken more falls than any other 20 comedians put together. From the time I was 21, I've taken them on everything from clay courts to cement to wood floors, coming off pianos, going out a two-story window, landing on Dean, falling into the rough. You do that and you're gonna have problems. ~ Jerry Lewis

One time I listened to Farmer give a talk on HIV to a class at the Harvard School of Public Health, and in the midst of reciting data, he mentioned the Haitian phrase "looking for life, destroying life," Then he explained, "It's an expression Haitians use if a poor woman selling mangoes falls off a truck and dies." I felt as if for that moment I could see a little way into his mind, It seemed like a place of hyperconnectivity, At moments like that, I thought that what he wanted was to erase both time and geography, connecting all parts of his life and tying them instrumentally to a world in which he saw intimate, inescapable connections between the gleaming corporate offices of Paris and New York and a legless man lying on the mud floor of a hut in the remotest part of remote Haiti. Of all the world's errors, he seemed to feel, the most fundamental was the "erasing" of people, the "hiding away" of suffering. "My big struggle is how people can not care, erase, not remember. ~ Tracy Kidder

I lay awake listening to the rain, and at first it was as pleasant to my ear and my mind as it had long been desired; but before I fell asleep it had become a majestic and finally a terrible thing, instead of a sweet sound and symbol. It was accusing and trying me and passing judgment. Long I lay still under the sentence, listening to the rain, and then at last listening to words which seemed to be spoken by a ghostly double beside me. He was muttering: The all-night rain puts out summer like a torch. In the heavy, black rain falling straight from invisible, dark sky to invisible, dark earth the heat of summer is annihilated, the splendour is dead, the summer is gone. The midnight rain buries it away where it has buried all sound but its own. I am alone in the dark still night, and my ear listens to the rain piping in the gutters and roaring softly in the trees of the world. Even so will the rain fall darkly upon the grass over the grave when my ears can hear it no more…

The summer is gone, and never can it return. There will never be any summer any more, and I am weary of everything… I am alone.

The truth is that the rain falls for ever and I am melting into it. Black and monotonously sounding is the midnight and solitude of the rain. In a little while or in an age – for it is all one – I shall know the full truth of the words I used to love, I knew not why, in my days of nature, in the days before the rain: 'Blessed are the dead that the rain rains on. ~ Edward Thomas

One of the best things about reconnecting with Annika is how natural it feels to be with her. Standing on the sidewalk, I wonder if she remembers how it felt to be in love with me.
I haven't forgotten how it felt to be in love with her.
As soon as we're settled in the back of the cab, she snuggles up next to me. Her body relaxes until I can feel her melting into me. She goes limp and falls asleep with her head on my chest. I don't mind at all, and I hold her until we get home. With my arms around her, she feels like mine again.
It's only when we're inside her department that I realize the evening- and the performance required of her to endure it- has taken everything she had and there's simply nothing left.
She's done.
She walks into the bedroom, and I follow. She pulls a T-shirt out of a dresser drawer and turns her back to me, not because she's upset that I followed, but so that I can unzip her dress. I oblige, and as soon as I've lowered it, the dress hits the floor. Her bra and underwear follow, which tells me that modesty is still a completely foreign concept to her. I'm not going to ogle her like the horny college student I once was, but I appreciate the view of her naked backside just the same. She turns around and when I see the front view, maybe I ogle just a little.
I mean, I'm human. ~ Tracey Garvis Graves

Imagine this:
Instead of waiting in her tower, Rapunzel slices off her long, golden hair with a carving knife, and then uses it to climb down to freedom.
Just as she's about to take the poison apple, Snow White sees the familiar wicked glow in the old lady's eyes, and slashes the evil queen's throat with a pair of sewing scissors.
Cinderella refuses everything but the glass slippers from her fairy godmother, crushes her stepmother's windpipe under her heel, and the Prince falls madly in love with the mysterious girl who dons rags and blood-stained slippers.

Imagine this:
Persephone goes adventuring with weapons hidden under her dress.
Persephone climbs into the gaping chasm.
Or, Persephone uses her hands to carve a hole down to hell.
In none of these versions is Persephone's body violated unless she asks Hades to hold her down with his horse-whips.
Not once does she hold out on eating the pomegranate, instead biting into it eagerly and relishing the juice running down her chin, staining it red.
In some of the stories, Hades never appears and Persephone rules the underworld with a crown of her own making.
In all of them, it is widely known that the name Persephone means Bringer of Destruction.

Imagine this:
Red Riding Hood marches from her grandmother's house with a bloody wolf pelt.
Medusa rights the wrongs that have been done to her.
Eurydice breaks every muscle in her arms climbi ~ Theappleppielifestyle

In the past he had been unable to see the great, teh unfathomable, the infinite, in anything. He had only felt that it must exist somewhere and had been seeking it. In everything near and comprehensible he had seen only what was limited, petty, commonplace, and meaningless. He had equipped himself with a mental telescope and gazed into the distance where the distance had seemed to him great and infinite only because they were not clearly visible. Such had Europan life, politics, Masonry, philosophy, and philanthropy seemed to him. Bet even then, at moments of weakness as he had accounted them, his mind had penetrated that distance too, and he had seen there the same triviality, worldliness, and absurdity.
Now, however, he had learned to see the great, the eternal, the infinite in everything, and therefore, in order to look at it, to enjoy his contemplation of it, he naturally discarded teh telescope through which he had till then been gazing over the heads of men, and joyfully surveyed the ever-changeing, eternally great, unfathomable, and infinite life around him. And the closer he looked, the happier and more seren he was. The awful question: What for? a simple answer was now always ready in his soul: Because there is a God, that God without whose will not one hair of a man's head falls. ~ Leo Tolstoy

By the River Piedra I sat down and wept. There is a legend that everything that falls into the waters of this river
leaves, insects, the feathers of birds
is transformed into the rocks that make the riverbed. If only I could tear out my heart and hurl it into the current, then my pain and longing would be over, and I could finally forget. ~ Paulo Coelho

I shuffled my weight from foot to foot, trying to relieve some of the soreness and wondering how long it would take Reth to figure out where I was and get into Raquel's room.
The door slid open in reply.
Jack and I darted in, letting out twin sighs of relief. Lend, of course, immediately dropped to the floor. Naked, still. I doubted Raquel had anything in his size.
"He was rather upset waking up in the Faerie Paths with me," Reth said.
"I can't imagine." I quickly scanned Raquel's austere living room area. "There, help me get him into that closet."
Jack grabbed an arm and we dragged my poor boyfriend across the floor and shoved him into the tiny coat closet next to Raquel's vacuum. I added watching Lend walk to the things I missed most about him.
We closed the door and after a few moments a loud thunk sounded. "What the - Where am I? Evie?"
"Right here," I said, tapping on the door. "You're in a closet in Raquel's unit."
"Why?"
"Because I'm going to search the rest of her place and I didn't want you to risk brain damage by any more unconscious falls."
He muttered something unintelligible but distinctly grouchy and I turned, quickly scanning the room. ~ Kiersten White

I could see, in the haze to the north, the tall stacks of the mighty Borden phosphate and fertilizer plant in Bradenton, spewing lethal fluorine and sulphuric-acid components into the vacation sky. In the immediate area it is known bitterly as the place where Elsie the Cow coughed herself to death. I have read where it had been given yet another two years to correct its massive and dangerous pollution. Big Borden must have directors somewhere. Maybe, like the Penn Central directors, they are going to sit on their respective docile asses until the roof falls in. There are but two choices. Either they know they condone poisoning and don't give a damn, or they don't know they condone poisoning and don't give a damn. Anybody can walk into any brokerage office and be told where to look to find a complete list of the names of the directors and where they live. Drop the fellows a line, huh? ~ John D. MacDonald

In good time she made tea; and afterwards, when I brought down my books, looked into them, and showed me what she knew of them (which was no slight matter, though she said it was), and what was the best way to learn and understand them. I see her, with her modest, orderly, placid manner, and I hear her beautiful calm voice, as I write these words. The influence for all good, which she came to exercise over me at a later time, begins already to descend upon my breast. I love little Em'ly, and I don't love Agnes - no, not at all in that way - but I feel that there are goodness, peace, and truth, wherever Agnes is; and that the soft light of the coloured window in the church, seen long ago, falls on her always, and on me when I am near her, and on everything around. ~ Charles Dickens

He holds her for an eternity. Time cascades into the void of the past. She inhales his scent. Full of man and strength and yearning. And she wonders why she ever doubted their relationship. Why she let Julian's soothing touch coax her into loving him too. Gage is everything. Gage is hers. ~ Laura Kreitzer

That's something Mary Lou Williams used to tell me: If you're not feeling right about what you're doing and you play a minor tune it all comes back, falls into place. I don't know if that's true, but I do it. ~ Marian McPartland

When every piece falls into place, it's like a dance, a delicate but powerful balancing act. The art of holding on and letting go at the same time. ~ Kristin Bartley Lenz

So my life is a point-counterpoint, a kind of fugue, and a falling away–and everything winds up being lost to me, and everything falls into oblivion, or into the hands of the other man. ~ Jorge Luis Borges

In the infinite wisdom of the Lord of all the earth, each event falls with exact precision into its proper place in the unfolding of His divine plan. Nothing, however small, however strange, occurs without His ordering, or without its particular fitness for its place in the working out of His purpose; and the end of all shall be the manifestation of His glory, and the accumulation of His praise. ~ B. B. Warfield

Everything I tried to put back together. Everything I tried to build back up. All of it begins to break apart.
Just like that.
It cracks and it falls and it shreds into a million fucking pieces and when I open my eyes, it's just me and it's just Chris. ~ Jason Myers

once one fully understands that there is no independent external universe outside of biological existence, the rest more or less falls into place. ~ Robert Lanza

The one that sang, old Janine, was always whispering into the g***** microphone before she sang. She'd say, 'And now we like to geeve you our impression of Vooly Voo Fransay. Eet ees the story of leetle Fransh girl who comes to a beeg ceety, just like New York, and falls een love wees a leetle boy from Brookleen. We hope you like eet.' Then, when she was all done whispering and being cute as hell, she'd sing some dopey song, half in English and half in French, and drive all the phonies in the place mad with joy. ~ J.D. Salinger