Mikkel Dark Quotes

I understand that you come from a generation of women who had to work hard to be heard, but for you to impugn my feminism and act as though I'm a scourge upon women everywhere, just because I refuse to spread your particular agenda? That's dark, and it's not what you fought for. If you continue this way, you're worse than they are (they = men). We are all just trying to get by. There is room for all of us. ~ Lena Dunham

You won't find me in a romantic comedy. Those movies don't speak to me. People don't come to talk to me about those scripts, because they probably think I'm this dark, twisted, miserable person. ~ Naomi Watts

She was doomed no matter what her life held. Whitlock: her Master would surely kill her. With me: she'd be even more of a slave - a Cort addict of my making. And here, alone, without me in the picture, she'd destroy herself. ~ A.A. Dark

Every woman needs at least one of each of these friends (and all in one works): Someone who will drink and/or eat cookie dough in times of stress, someone who will take off her earrings and do battle, someone who will listen to all of your secrets, no matter how dark and NOT TELL, someone with the courage to tell you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and someone who will play the role of fool to lift your spirits. ~ Susan Thatcher

So weird," Decker mumbled. "I thought she walked through walls.""I guess she doesn't have to. This is how she kept getting my porno stash last summer,"Beck
grumbled. "I had it behind lock and key.""Our porno stash. I told you to give it to Grandpa Louis. She leaves him alone. ~ Lizzy Ford

Remember. Oh, remember. How remember moments of forgotten time? Where is the way now (she wondered) through that dark up-spreading wood? Leaf, locust, sunlight in the hollow, all those she had known, all had fled like years. Now silence sounds where no light falls, and she has lost the way. ~ William Styron

Afflictions are but as a dark entry into our Father's house. ~ Thomas Brooks

Younger people could dredge up an impressive number of dark words to express their pain. As writers got older and older, their negative emotion vocabulary diminished and their positive emotion word count skyrocketed. As ~ James W. Pennebaker

If you think about it, the public perception of funky brain chemistry has been as varied and weird as the symptoms, historically speaking.

If I had been born a Native American in another time, I might have been lauded as a medicine man. My voices would have been seen as the voices of ancestors imparting wisdom. I would have been treated with great mystical regard.

If I had lived in biblical times, I might have been seen as a prophet, because, let's face it, there are really only two possibilities: either prophets were actually hearing God speaking to them, or they were mentally ill. I'm sure if an actual prophet surfaced today, he or she would receive plenty of Haldol injections, until the sky opened up and the doctors were slapped silly by the Hand of God.

In the Dark Ages my parents would have sent for an exorcist, because I was clearly possessed by evil spirits, or maybe even the Devil himself.

And if I lived in Dickensian England, I would have been thrown into Bedlam, which is more than just a description of madness. It was an actual place - a "madhouse" where the insane were imprisoned in unthinkable conditions.

Living in the twenty-first century gives a person a much better prognosis for treatment, but sometimes I wish I'd lived in an age before technology. I would much rather everyone think I was a prophet than some poor sick kid. ~ Neal Shusterman

I had taken this time to fall in love instead - inn love with the sort of helplessness I had not felt inn death - the helplessness of being alive, the dark bright pity of being human - feeling as you went, groping in corners and opening your arms to light - all of it part of nagivating the unknown. ~ Alice Sebold

When the spiritual light is concentrated in the brain, everything else must be sinking in the dark. ~ Carl Linnaeus

She had never really seen a pair of eyes like this. It was like standing in the doorway to a dark room, like balancing on a threshold, holding a lantern up and watching how it kissed some things gold and left other things in shadow. It was the kind of dark that hid and held a lot of things. A hot fluid dark, a summer tide pool dark, a wild breathless dark. ~ Nina Varela

As a kid I understood that people were different colors, but in my head white and black and brown were like types of chocolate. Dad was the white chocolate, mom was the dark chocolate, and I was the milk chocolate. But we were all just chocolate. ~ Trevor Noah

WINTER'S GHOST:
Autumn moon
incautious in the dark river
Winter's ghost walks
with a covered face
and silver bones wait in all animals
to be bone cloth upon her shoulder
wait for her happiness in that they are silver ~ Tamara Rendell

You will go there again. You will. I'm not about to pretend otherwise. It's all or nothing, Chris. All the dark, hated places you go, you go with me. You have to trust me enough to love that part of you as much as I do the rest." "You don't know what you're asking." "It's not a question. It's not even close to a request. This is how it has to be." His lashes lower; his struggle is palpable, and I soften instantly, hurting as he hurts. My fingers find his hair, stroking tenderly. "Let me love what you hate. Let me do that for you." He presses his cheek to mine, his whiskers a welcome rasp on my cheek. "God, woman. I can't lose you." I close my eyes and whisper, "I'm not going anywhere. ~ Lisa Renee Jones

So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon. I shall walk, as I did tonight, jealous of my loneliness, in the blue-silver of the cold moon, shining brilliantly on the drifts of fresh-fallen snow, with the myriad sparkles. I talk to myself and look at the dark trees, blessedly neutral. So much easier than facing people, than having to look happy, invulnerable, clever. With masks down, I walk, talking to the moon, to the neutral impersonal force that does not hear, but merely accepts my being. And does not smite me down. ~ Sylvia Plath

You think my first instinct is to protect you. Because you're small, or a girl, or a Stiff. But you're wrong."
He leans his face close to mine and wraps his fingers around my chin. His hand smells like metal. When was the last time he held a gun, or a knife? My skin tingles at the point of contact, like he's transmitting electricity through his skin.
"My first instinct is to push you until you break, just to see how hard I have to press." he says, his fingers squeezing at the word break. My body tenses at the edge in his voice, so I am coiled as tight as a spring, and I forget to breathe.
His dark eyes lifting to mine, he adds, "But I resist it."
"Why ... " I swallow hard. "Why is that your first instinct?"
"Fear doesn't shut you down; it wakes you up. I've seen it. It's fascinating." He releases me but doesn't pull away, his hand grazing my jaw, my neck. "Sometimes I just want to see it again. Want to see you awake. ~ Veronica Roth

Although Daisy was the mildest-tempered of all the Bowmans, she was by no means a coward. And she would not accept defeat without a fight.
"You're forcing me to take desperate measures," she said.
His reply was very soft. "There's nothing you can do."
He had left her no choice.
Daisy turned the key in the lock and carefully withdrew it.
The decisive click was abnormally loud in the silence of the room.
Calmly Daisy tugged the top edge of her bodice away from her chest. She held the key above the narrow gap.
Matthew's eyes widened as he understood what she intended. "You wouldn't."
As he started around the dresser, Daisy dropped the key into her bodice, making certain it slipped beneath her corset. She sucked in her stomach and midriff until she felt the cold metal slide to her navel.
"Damn it!" Matthew reached her with startling speed. He reached out to touch her, then jerked his hands back as if he had just encountered open flame. "Take it out," he commanded, his face dark with outrage.
"I can't."
"I mean it, Daisy!"
"It's fallen too far down. I'll have to take my dress off."
It was obvious he wanted to kill her. But she could also feel the force of his longing. His lungs were working like bellows, and scorching heat radiated from his body.
His whisper contained the ferocity of a roar. "Don't do this to me."
Daisy waited patiently.
The next move was his.
He turned his back t ~ Lisa Kleypas

And I learned a lot from working with this kid, and I think he's gonna be a big star. Remember the name, Tim Dark, because he has something about his voice that's different from all the other rappers, even though his style is similar. ~ Alan Vega

It takes more courage to examine the dark corners of your own soul than it does for a soldier to fight on a battlefield ~ W.B.Yeats

You're fighting the urge to look down and check, aren't you?" I say in the dark. My dick stirs, like he knows he's about to become a conversation piece and wants to look his best. ~ Kristen Callihan

At the moment that everything goes dark, the sunset in front of us becomes the whole story. But if we find courage enough to wait until tomorrow morning, we will suddenly come to understand that in reality yesterday's sunset was only half of the story. ~ Craig D. Lounsbrough

I've always been a person afraid of the dark. I was taught that when you have complete darkness, that's when spirits walk. In our house when I was growing up, all the doors were always cracked a little bit at night so you could get light into the room. ~ Tony Dorsett

In an instant, five harlequin-like clowns emerged and began to perform all kinds of acrobatic tricks, encircling us––correction...corralling us. They were graceful but a little creepy too. They were wearing black and white costumes that were form fitting and appeared to move like some psychedelic drug trip when they flipped around. That of course was odd, but not nearly as odd as the chant they were singing as they continued to perform their tricks.
See us dance.
Watch us flip.
Care to take a chance?
We'll only need a sip.
Come to see our mistress?
Or come to see our master?
She can be quite viscous.
But he is a disaster.
We love them both, and we'll let you choose.
Either way, we wouldn't want to be in your shoes. ~ Brynn Myers

You know that jerk that drives up the shoulder on the freeway, passing perhaps miles of cars stuck patiently in traffic, just knowing someone up there, eventually, will let him in?
It's the same thing!
Someone always accommodates the pushy, petulant jerk!
Someone always lets that guy with the silver Porsche Boxster in and the rest of us, stuck behind the guy letting him in, have to suffer.
It's the same with people all over.
It only takes one sucker. One push-over to mess it up for the rest of us. ~ Logan Ryan Smith

O the sad frugality of the middle-income mind. O the humorless neatness of an intellectuality which buys mass-produced candlesticks and carefully puts one at each end of every philosophical mantlepiece! How far it lies from the playfulness of Him who composed such odd and needless variations on the themes of leaf and backbone, eye and nose! A thousand praises that it has only lately managed to lay its cold hand on the wines, the sauces, and the cheeses of the world! A hymn of thanksgiving that it could not reach into the depths of the sea to clamp its grim simplicities over the creatures that swim luminously in the dark! A shout of rejoicing for the fish who wears his eyeballs at the ends of long stalks, and for the jubilant laughter of the God who holds him in life with a daily bravo at the bravura of his being! ~ Robert Farrar Capon

I am always the first to say that fame and entertainment is one of the best and easiest occupations to ever have, but one must know how to navigate through the matrix or you may find yourself in a very dark hole. ~ Nick Cannon

I actually imagined 'Thunderbolts' as a straight-up comedy book in a lot of ways, like a very dark comedy book, whereas 'Red Lanterns' is more of a cosmic saga that has some jokes every once in a while. ~ Charles Soule

If Continental tea is like a faded yellow telegraph form, in these islands to the west of Ostend it has the dark, glimmering tones of Russian icons, before the milk gives it a color similar to the complexion of an overfed baby; on the Continent weak tea is served in fragile porcelain, here it is casually poured into thick earthenware cups from battered metal teapots, a heavenly brew to restore the traveler, dirt cheap too. ~ Heinrich Boll

One ingredient of revenge is always pride. ~ Eleanor Dark

The central theme of Anna Karenina," he said, "is that a rural life of moral simplicity, despite its monotony, is the preferable personal narrative to a daring life of impulsive passion, which only leads to tragedy."
"That is a very long theme," the scout said.
"It's a very long book," Klaus replied.
[ ... ]
"Or maybe a daring life of impulsive passion leads to something else," the scout said, and in some cases this mysterious person was right. A daring life of impulsive passion is an expression which refers to people who follow what is in their hearts, and like people who prefer to follow their head, or follow a mysterious man in a dark blue raincoat, people who lead a daring life of impulsive passion end up doing all sorts of things. ~ Lemony Snicket

Tonglen practice has four stages: Rest your mind for a second or two in a state of openness or stillness. This is called flashing absolute bodhichitta, or suddenly opening to the basic spaciousness and clarity of the awakened heart. Work with texture. Breathe in a feeling of hot, dark, and heavy - a sense of claustrophobia - and breathe out a feeling of cool, bright, and light - a sense of freshness. Breathe in through all the pores of your body and radiate out completely, through all the pores of your body. Do this until your visualization feels synchronized with your in and out-breaths. Now contemplate any painful situation that's real to you. For example, you can breathe in the hot, dark, constricted feeling of sadness that you feel, and breathe out a light, cool sense of joy or space or whatever might provide relief. Widen the circle of compassion by connecting with all those who feel this kind of pain, and extending the wish to help everyone. ~ Pema Chodron

Do you have a band-aid?" he asked Roni. Her brow puckered "No why?" "i just scraped my knee falling for you ~ Suzanne Wright

He foresaw his pale body reclined in it at full, naked, in a womb of warmth, oiled by scented melting soap, softly laved. He saw his trunk and limbs riprippled over and sustained, buoyed lightly upward, lemonyellow: his navel, bud of flesh: and saw the dark tangled curls of his bush floating, floating hair of the stream around the limp father of thousands, a languid floating flower. ~ James Joyce

Dragons old and young, true and false, bright and dark. And you. A small man with a big shadow, snarling in the midst of all. ~ George R R Martin

How can one capture genes that behave like ghosts," Weinberg wrote, "influencing cells from behind some dark curtain? ~ Siddhartha Mukherjee

The future is neither ahead nor behind, on one side or another. Nor is it dark or light. It is contained within ourselves; its evil and good are perpetually within us. ~ Loren Eiseley

Fresh beauty opens one's eyes wherever it is really seen, but the very abundance and completeness of the common beauty that besets our steps prevents its being absorbed and appreciated. It is a good thing, therefore, to make short excursions now and then to the bottom of the sea among dulse and coral, or up among the clouds on mountain-tops, or in balloons, or even to creep like worms into dark holes and caverns underground, not only to learn something of what is going on in those out-of-the-way places, but to see better what the sun sees on our return to common every-day beauty. ~ John Muir

Are you okay?" he says.

My breath shakes. "Do you know the story of the Prodigal Son?"

"Oh my god. Rev - "

"Do you?"

He sighs. "I don't remember the whole thing."

So I tell him the story.

He listens. When I'm done, he says, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Which one am I?" I finally ask.

"Rev - "

"I didn't stay with my father. So I'm obviously not the devoted son."

"Dude."

"But is that saying that if I went back to him, he'd welcome me with open arms? Am I supposed to be that son?"

"Are you listening to yourself right now?"

"No." I study him. My voice is a breath away from breaking. "Help me, Dec. Which one am I?"

His eyes are dark and serious. "Neither. Is that what you need me to say? You're neither son.

"But - "

"You're not selfish. You wouldn't be the son who asks for his money and leaves. And you're not spiteful. You don't resent anyone, even the one person you should."

I flinch again. "Don't you understand? I have to be one or the other."

"No, you don't! You moron, there are three people in the story."

"What?"

"You're neither son, Rev. If you're anyone, you're the man who watched his kids act like total dicks, only to stand there with open arms and forgive them."

I'm speechless. I might be gaping at him. As many times as I've read t ~ Brigid Kemmerer

In vain I try to jump into the photo
To create again a time so simple
That a piece of paper might encapsulate it
From the erosive winds and waves of time
Which bring even the greatest of loves to a grave of dust. ~ Justin Wetch

I'm a quirky, intelligent, dark haired chick! Me, me, me, pick me! And who the hell keeps whining and ruining my perfect moment? I will cut a bitch. ~ Tara Sivec

This is a dark age. That's not news. It's a dark time when we have to be particularly aware of danger. ~ Frederick Lenz

The love you have for your kids is so overwhelmingly powerful that it alters your perspective. The dark things going on in the world become very poignant and vivid. ~ James Mercer

I thought for a minute you were going to start a war for me."
Christian held the door open. "You'll know when that day comes. ~ Dannika Dark

I think," Berta remarked with a proud little smile when she was seated alone in the drawing room beside Elizabeth, "he's having second thoughts about proposing, milday."
"I think he was silently contemplating the easiest way to murder me at dinner," Elizabeth said, chuckling. She was about to say more when the butler interrupted them to announce that Lord Marchman wished to have a private word with Lady Cameron in his study.
Elizabeth prepared for another battle of wits-or witlessness, she thought with an inner smile-and dutifully followed the butler down a dark hall furnished in brown and into a very large study where the earl was seated in a maroon chair at a desk on her right.
"You wished to see-" she began as she stepped into his study, but something on the wall beside her brushed against her hair. Elizabeth turned her head, expecting to see a portrait hanging there, and instead found herself eye-to-fang with an enormous bear's head. The little scream that tore from her was very real this time, although it owed to shock, not to fear.
"It's quite dead," the earl said in a voice of weary resignation, watching her back away from his most prized hunting trophy with her hand over her mouth.
Elizabeth recovered instantly, her gaze sweeping over the wall of hunting trophies, then she turned around.
"You may take your hand away from your mouth," he stated. Elizabeth fixed him with another accusing glare, biting her lip to hide her smile. She would ha ~ Judith McNaught

Get up to pray in the dark when all are asleep and see how your path is lit and your life begins to shine. ~ Mufti Ismail Menk

The big question of vampires, the question that hunts governments and individuals alike, the question that bug me every night when I see their red eyes watching citizens of Coldtown the ways hungry cats watch fishin a bucket is: what are they? Are they diseased or demonic? Are they humans who have become ill, deserving hospitals and care, as some have argued? Or are they the bodies of our loved ones animated by some dark force that we ought to seek to destroy? ~ Holly Black

Who are theologians? What kind of self-identity could or should a theologian claim? Should a theologian be a defender or transmitter of Christian _tradition_? What if the _tradition_ itself carries a dark side, implicitly or explicitly, bounded by religious or cultural superiorism, ethnocentrism, homophobism, exclusive nationalism, sexism, racism, and so forth? What kind of _identity_ would then justify my rule as theologian? This question has been lingering in my mind throughout the time I have been working on cosmopolitan theology. it may sound simple, but for me the identity issue has been fundamental. ~ Namsoon Kang

Most lexicographers had no clue that such a career path existed until they were smack in the middle of it. Neil Serven, an editor at Merriam-Webster, is an outlier. He sums up his brief musings on how dictionaries came to be thusly: "I imagined dark halls and angry people. ~ Kory Stamper