Realization Says It All Quotes

Roe'vaash was done... He was tired hungry, cold and very relieved that he had never cut off his elven ears. Today was a new day to start again. ~quote from Then'diel's SONG 2014 ~ K. Farrell St. Germain

Let us finally consider how naive it is altogether to say: "Man ought to be such and such!" Reality shows us an enchanting wealth of types, the abundance of a lavish play and change of forms - and some wretched loafer of a moralist comments: "No! Man ought to be different." He even knows what man should be like, this wretched bigot and prig: he paints himself on the wall and comments, "Ecce homo!" But even when the moralist addresses himself only to the single human being and says to him, "You ought to be such and such!" he does not cease to make himself ridiculous. The single human being is a piece of fatum from the front and from the rear, one law more, one necessity more for all that is yet to come and to be. To say to him, "Change yourself!" is to demand that everything be changed, even retroactively. And indeed there have been consistent moralists who wanted man to be different, that is, virtuous - they wanted him remade in their own image, as a prig: to that end, they negated the world! No small madness! No modest kind of immodesty!
Morality, insofar as it condemns for its own sake, and not out of regard for the concerns, considerations, and contrivances of life, is a specific error with which one ought to have no pity - an idiosyncrasy of degenerates which has caused immeasurable harm.
We others, we immoralists, have, conversely, made room in our hearts for every kind of understanding, comprehending, and approving. We do not easily negate; we make it a ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

I don't make you sick," he says, tightly controlled fury dripping from every word. "I make you come. I make you beg for it."
"Yes, you had to make me beg for it." I pour all my pent-up loathing and contempt into my hateful glower. "I didn't do it on my own. I never would have. Just kill me and get it over with, you scum-licking pig, because I am Tamara Bennett, and I will end your disgusting life or die trying. I am not Toy, I was never Toy, and I never will be. You fucking failed at breaking me, like you fail at life, you piece of shit."
Instead of answering, he turns and storms out of the room.
As soon as he's out the door, I hear him shouting. No, roaring. An animal sound of pure fury. I hear glass breaking and a door slam repeatedly.
I've made the iceman lose control.
I smile to myself.
I shut my eyes and remember that I'm Tamara again. It feels so good to be Tamara ~ Ginger Talbot

I arrange to meet Kimmie and Wes before homeroom the following day. The cafeteria serves breakfast for early risers in the form of stale toast, oatmeal sludge, and watered-down orange juice.
"This had better be worth it," Wes says. "By my calculation, I'd say you're denying us at least thirty minutes of sleep."
"Not to mention precious primping time." Kimmie motions to her outfit: a black leather poodle skirt paired with a glittery pink T that reads DEMON IN TRAINING. "Like it? I also have a coordinating pitchfork, but in all this rush I forgot it at home."
"Along with your sense of style," Wes jokes, resting his cheek against her shoulder. ~ Laurie Faria Stolarz

We all have what it takes to do exactly what we want to do in life, no matter what anyone else says. If someone tells you, "You can't do this because you are [fill in the blank]," I say embrace the challenge. Wear it like a new pair of Converse or Jordans. Meet it head-on. ~ Kwame Alexander

I have had so many Dwellings, Nat, that I know these Streets as well as a strowling Beggar: I was born in this Nest of Death and Contagion and now, as they say, I have learned to feather it. When first I was with Sir Chris. I found lodgings in Phenix Street off Hogg Lane, close by St Giles and Tottenham Fields, and then in later times I was lodged at the corner of Queen Street and Thames Street, next to the Blew Posts in Cheapside. (It is still there, said Nat stirring up from his Seat, I have passed it!) In the time before the Fire, Nat, most of the buildings in London were made of timber and plaister, and stones were so cheap that a man might have a cart-load of them for six-pence or seven-pence; but now, like the Aegyptians, we are all for Stone. (And Nat broke in, I am for Stone!) The common sort of People gawp at the prodigious Rate of Building and exclaim to each other London is now another City or that House was not there Yesterday or the Situacion of the Streets is quite Changd (I contemn them when they say such things! Nat adds). But this Capital City of the World of Affliction is still the Capitol of Darknesse, or the Dungeon of Man's Desires: still in the Centre are no proper Streets nor Houses but a Wilderness of dirty rotten Sheds, allways tumbling or takeing Fire, with winding crooked passages, lakes of Mire and rills of stinking Mud, as befits the smokey grove of Moloch. (I have heard of that Gentleman, says Nat all a quiver). It is true that in what we call th ~ Peter Ackroyd

Movement is my medium and my metaphor. I know that if a wave of energy is allowed to complete itself, it yields a whole new wave, and in fact that is all I really know. Riding these waves means joining the cosmic dance that, as Dante says, 'moves the sun and the other stars.' ~ Gabrielle Roth

John says if I don't pick up faster he shall send me to Weir Mitchell in the fall.
But I don't want to go there at all. I had a friend who was in his hands once, and she says he is just like John and my brother, only more so!
Besides, it is such an undertaking to go so far.
I don't feel as if it was worth while to turn my hand over for anything, and I'm getting dreadfully fretful and querulous.
I cry at nothing, and cry most of the time.
Of course I don't when John is here, or anybody else, but when I am alone. ~ Charlotte Perkins Gilman

When Scripture says, "As a man thinks, so is he," it is raw truth. How we approach life and react to its vagaries determines the bulk of our character. How we love is locked into how we think about it. What angers us is triggered by how we think. It is between our ears that we decide how easily offended we will be. When it comes to harsh words from others, whether my skin absorbs like cotton or deflects like Teflon is a decision I make. All of that happens in a three-pound organ five-and-a-half inches across called my brain. In a very real sense, my world begins and ends between my ears. I don't have to be brain-dead to be brain-defeated. ~ Richard Foth

My own definition is a feminist is a man or a woman who says, yes, there's a problem with gender as it is today and we must fix it, we must do better. All of us, women and men, must do better. ~ Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

1
Cain lifts Crow, that heavy black bird
and strikes down Abel.

Damn, says Crow, I guess
this is just the beginning.

2
The white man, disguised
as a falcon, swoops in
and yet again steals a salmon
from Crow's talons.

Damn, says Crow, if I could swim
I would have fled this country years ago.

3
The Crow God as depicted
in all of the reliable Crow bibles
looks exactly like a Crow.

Damn, says Crow, this makes it
so much easier to worship myself.

4
Among the ashes of Jericho,
Crow sacrifices his firstborn son.

Damn, says Crow, a million nests
are soaked with blood.

5
When Crows fight Crows
the sky fills with beaks and talons.

Damn, says Crow, it's raining feathers.

6
Crow flies around the reservation
and collects empty beer bottles

but they are so heavy
he can only carry one at a time.

So, one by one, he returns them
but gets only five cents a bottle.

Damn, says Crow, redemption
is not easy.

7
Crow rides a pale horse
into a crowded powwow
but none of the Indian panic.

Damn, says Crow, I guess
they already live near the end of the world. ~ Sherman Alexie

You certainly know how to silence a room." -Ana
"I do it all the time", he says, and he grins at me. ~ E.L. James

Rabbits (says Mr. Lockley) are like human beings in many ways. One of these is certainly their staunch ability to withstand disaster and to let the stream of their life carry them along, past reaches of terror and loss. They have a certain quality which it would not be accurate to describe as callousness or indifference. It is, rather, a blessedly circumscribed imagination and an intuitive feeling that Life is Now. A foraging wild creature, intent above all upon survival, is as strong as the grass. ~ Richard Adams

If you two are starting a detective agency, I want in," said Selene, adjusting her ball cap.

"Well, duh," said Eli, beaming at her.

"And we're going to need a name," Selene said. "Something good and catchy."

"You're right." Eli scratched his chin. "How about the Arkwell Detective Agency. The A.D.A."

Selene wrinkled her nose. "Sounds too much like a chemical or something."

"What about Booker and Associates?"

I rolled my eyes. "It's not all about you, you know?"

Eli grinned. "Says who?"

"I think we should call it Selene Investigations."

"No, Nightmare Investigations."

"Dreamer Investigations."

"The Dream Team."

"How about Magic Eyes? You know, like private eyes, only for magic."

"Corny much? ~ Mindee Arnett

How do you know, and I mean really know, when you're in love with someone?"
...
"It all feels like a dream," he says.
"A dream," I repeat. Ain't he right. ~ Tarryn Fisher

I continue to be immensely moved by the impermanence of hotels: not in any mundane Travel-and-Leisure way but with a fervor bordering on the transcendent. Some time in October, right around Day of the Dead actually, I stayed in a Mexican seaside hotel where the halls flowed with blown curtains and all the rooms were named after flowers. The Azalea Room, the Camellia Room, the Oleander Room. Opulence and splendor, breezy corridors that swept into something like eternity and each room with its different colored door. Peony, Wisteria, Rose, Passion Flower. And who knows
but maybe that's what's waiting for us at the end of the journey, a majesty unimaginable until the very moment we find ourselves walking through the doors of it, what we find ourselves gazing at in astonishment when God finally takes His hands off our eyes and says: Look! ~ Donna Tartt

She waited for some time without hearing anything more: at last came a rumbling of little cart-wheels, and the sound of a good many voices all talking together: she made out the words: "Where's the other ladder? - Why, I hadn't to bring but one. Bill's got the other - Bill! Fetch it here, lad! - Here, put 'em up at this corner - No, tie 'em together first - they don't reach half high enough yet - Oh! they'll do well enough. Don't be particular - Here, Bill! catch hold of this rope - Will the roof bear? - Mind that loose slate - Oh, it's coming down! Heads below!" (a loud crash) - "Now, who did that? - It was Bill, I fancy - Who's to go down the chimney? - Nay, I shan't! You do it! - That I wo'n't, then! - Bill's got to go down - Here, Bill! The master says you've got to go down the chimney! ~ Lewis Carroll

Principle says it's not who put forth an idea. It's not the position of the person who put forth an idea; it's not the longevity of the person or the party of the person. That's not what it is at all. In a power system, that's the way it works. But in a principle system, it's what it says. ~ Dan Webster

The title says it all: 'Little House on a Small Planet.' With population,
pollution and environmental pressures weighing heavily upon us, our planet
grows smaller every day and the need for thoughtful, lower-impact housing becomes more urgent. This delightful book is full of inspiring ideas that will help you simplify your housing choices, make more environmentally responsible product and material choices and bring down the square footage of your next home. Or maybe you'll decide to take your current home and turn it into several. You won't be disappointed. ~ Wanda Urbanska

A text comes from Wallace.

An actual text too, not a message through the forum app. I gave him my number awhile back, before Halloween, but not because I wanted him to call me or anything. I wrote it on the edge of our conversation paper in homeroom and slid it over to him because sometimes I see something and think, Wallace would laugh at that, I should send him a picture of it, but the messaging app is terrible with pictures and texting is way better.

So he texts me now, and it's a picture. A regular sweet potato pie. Beneath the picture, he says, I really like sweet potato pie.

I text back, Yeah, so do I.

Then he sends me a picture of his face, frowning, and says, No, you don't understand.

Then another picture, closer, just his eyes. I REALLY like sweet potato pie.

A series of pictures comes in several-second intervals. The first is a triangular slice of pie in Wallace's hand. Then Wallace holding that slice up to his face - it's soft enough to start collapsing between his fingers. The next one has him stuffing the slice into his mouth, and in the final one it's all the way in, his cheeks are puffed out like a chipmunk's, and he's letting his eyes roll back like it's the best thing he's ever eaten.

I purse my lips to keep my laugh in, but my parents are fine-tuned to the slightest hint of amusement from me, and they both look up.

"What's so funny, Eggs?" Dad says.

"Nothing," ~ Francesca Zappia

I wanted to show how humans can have ugly feelings that they might prefer not to acknowledge; how we're all caught up in our own problems and limited by our own life experience," she says. "To judge somebody else, to declare them substandard, to conclude that their misfortunes are due to inherent character flaws, can be a way of boosting our own self-esteem, because it must follow that our comparative success or happiness is not mere luck or chance, but the reward for superior morals or talent. ~ J.K. Rowling

If God were always visible, humans could not exist at all. "No one can see Me and live," says God. "If we continue to hear the voice of God, we will die," say the Israelites at Sinai. But if God is always invisible, hidden, imperceptible, then what difference does His existence make? It will always be as if He were not there. The answer to this dilemma is holiness. Holiness represents those points in space and time where God becomes vivid, tangible, a felt presence. Holiness is a break in the self-sufficiency of the material world, where infinity enters space and eternity enters time. In relation to time, it is Shabbat. In relation to space, it is the Tabernacle. These, in the Torah, are the epicentres of the sacred. ~ Jonathan Sacks

So, that's the secret to happiness? Don't tak life seriously?" I ask.
"No," she says. "Take life seriously. That you have to do. Don't take yourself seriously, that's the key. Let it all go. Don't care for a second what people think of you. In fact, go out of your way to keep them guessing. ~ Katie Kacvinsky

You are wrong," says the man. His voice is low and resonant. The metal walls of the dome, all the knives and swords and spears, all seem to vibrate with each of his words. "Your rulers and their propaganda have sold you this watered-down conceit of war, of a warrior yoked to the whims of civilization. Yet for all their self-professed civility, your rulers will gladly spend a soldier's life to better aid their posturing, to keep the cost of a crude good low. They will send the children of others off to die and only think upon it later to grandly and loudly memorialize them, lauding their great sacrifice. Civilization is but the adoption of this cowardly method of murder. ~ Robert Jackson Bennett

I always remember an epitaph which is in the cemetery at Tombstone, Arizona. It says: 'Here lies Jack Williams. He done his damnedest.' I think that is the greatest epitaph a man can have - When he gives everything that is in him to do the job he has before him. That is all you can ask of him and that is what I have tried to do. ~ Harry S. Truman

Never believe those who says you can't. You can! You can make it in life. Believe in your dreams.You can make all your dreams come true. ~ Lailah Gifty Akita

On a recent HBO special, Roseanne Arnold, who, incidentally, collects Barbies, excoriated what she considered to be Barbie's middle-class-ness. Why didn't Mattel make, say, "trailer-park Barbie"? But to many upper-middle-class women, all post-1977 Barbies are Trailer Park Barbie. Ironically, given the knee-jerk antagonism to Barbie's body, it is one of her few attributes that doesn't scream "prole." Her thinness - indicative of an expensive gym membership and possibly a personal trainer - definitely codes her as middle- or upper-middle-class. In Distinction, French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu notes that "working class women . . . are less aware of the 'market' value of beauty and less inclined to invest . . . sacrifices and money in cultivating their bodies." Likewise, Barbie's swanlike neck elevates her status. A stumpy neck is a lower-class attribute, Fussell says. ~ M.G. Lord

True intelligence is pure love which does not exclude or waste anything.
Not even a grain of sand is excluded or wasted. There are no exceptions in what is set free and in what is in service to this setting free.
Life, the formless, form and fragrance, knows exactly what it is doing.
Life is pure, unfiltered Intelligence flowing as whatever shape is now appearing.
It is alive and it is all calling us Home.
Do you hear the grain of sand calling your name?
It says, "Love."
Do you sense the truth of it?
If not, lean in and 'listen' again -
this time with the whole of your being. ~ Dhyana Stanley

But my mother keeps on forgetting that she did everything she wanted to do. Married my father. Went to university. Had a family. No one got in her way. All at our age now. And that's what she taught me. To do what I want to do and stop having people telling me that I can't marry Will because I'm too young and I haven't seen the world or taken advantage of the choices out there. Who says we're not going to see the world? Or that I won't want to sew for the rest of my life, or that I won't want to finish my Honors? Who says choice is better in ten years' time when it comes to guys? Just say there are bigger dickheads out there? ~ Melina Marchetta

She's cold as ice."
"You used to worry she'd get herself killed before she managed to grow up," Barrons says. "Moot point now."
"She's fucking beautiful."
Barrons studies him a moment then says, "Old enough for you."
"That's not why I watched over her."
"Bullshit. We all saw the woman she could become. Just didn't think she'd do it so quickly."
"I wanted her to have - Ah, fuck, it doesn't matter."
"The childhood she missed. It's gone. Adapt. ~ Karen Marie Moning

Justin looks familiar because he's an architect."
As far as an explanation goes, that one is pretty terrible. "Yes. And we all know each other through The Gay Architects Association. I forgot. Were you at the potluck last month?"
"Yup. I brought the pasta salad," Justin answers, without missing a beat.
Avery salutes him with his beer bottle. "It was really good. I liked the bacon."
"It was real too. Only straight architects put bacon bits in their pasta salad." Justin smiles. "I'm in it for the real meat."
"Aren't we all?" Avery laughs and clinks his beer bottle with Justin's.
"Oh, this was a good idea," Brandon says and sighs. "Introducing you two. ~ Avon Gale

Marriage can be whatever you define it as. For example, I don't feel like I need a piece of paper that says I own her and she owns me. I think signing a piece of paper doesn't mean anything in the eyes of God or in the eyes of people. The thing is, if you are together and you love each other and are good to each other, make babies and all that, for all intents and purposes you are married. ~ Johnny Depp

Whoever came up with the ida of labeling classified documents with larger-than-life red stenciling that advertises - or at least hints at - the contents was a schmuck, I think. You might as well put a tag that says OPEN ME! on it. If it were up to me, I'd hide all secrets in back copies of Reader's Digest. ~ Christina Dalcher

All sin, at its root, is failing to give God glory. It is loving anything else more than God. Refusing to bring glory to God is prideful rebellion, and it is the sin that caused Satan's fall - and ours, too. In different ways we have all lived for our own glory, not God's. The Bible says, "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God."9 ~ Rick Warren

Up telephone poles,
Which rear, half out of leavage
As though they would shriek
Like things smothered by their own
Green, mindless, unkillable ghosts.
In Georgia, the legend says
That you must close your windows
At night to keep it out of the house
The glass is tinged with green, even so,
As the tendrils crawl over the fields.
The night the Kudzu has
Your pasture, you sleep like the dead.
Silence has grown oriental
And you cannot step upon the ground ...
ALL: Kudzu by James Dickey ~ James Dickey

A crease of disquiet snakes across his brow. 'Your father plays with fire to gather them together like that. They are too clever. They form alliances. They develop - ambitions.'
He looks so solemn I wish to soothe his fears. 'You worry too much, I am sure,' I say lightly. 'After all, they are still rooted in the ground, are they not? They cannot pull themselves up and march around wrecking havoc, like an invading army.'
'Maybe,' he says, though he sounds unsure. 'I have never met their like before; that is all. It disturbs me.' He gestures around. 'And not only me. The forests, the fields, the moss that grows on the rocks - none of them are happy about that garden. Nature would have kept those plants safely apart, scattered over the continents, separated by oceans. But your father has summoned them from the corners of the earth and locked them together, side by side, hidden behind walls, where they can grow in secret. It is wrong, Jessamine - I fear it is dangerous - ~ Maryrose Wood

God is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent – it says so right here on the label. If you have a mind capable of believing all three of these divine attributes simultaneously, I have a wonderful bargain for you. No checks, please. Cash and in small bills. ~ Robert A. Heinlein

The memory may not change in form, but years of underlining give it a weight that can become tremendous. Each of the many, many times you are called to remember the cold of abandonment, the bars, and the loneliness, this experience says deep inside you, 'You see? That's the way life is, after all. ~ Joanne Greenberg

The homeland, the myth of the homeland, becomes a fundamental value for those who have nothing else( ... )In a world where power, like wealth, falls to the few, where no merit guarantees a reward and justice becomes a commodity like anything else, the human heart needs fortification. It needs something permanent, something available to everyone, irrespective of their merits, of the political climate, of prestige, authority, or affluence. It may be that for the disinherited, this final place is their place of birth. A law that says we are all born equal is as beautiful as it is impossible to enact. But the fact that we are all born in a particular place is hard to question. For many of us, if not the majority, this is the only incontrovertible foundation of our fate. ~ Andrzej Stasiuk

I look down at myself, but I don't need to. I can feel it. My hot blood is pounding through my body, flooding capillaries and lighting up cells like Fourth of July fireworks. I can feel the elation of every atom in my flesh, brimming with gratitude for the second chance they never expected to get. The chance to start over, to live right, to love right, to burn up in a fiery cloud and never again be buried in the mud. I kiss Julie to hide the fact that I'm blushing. My face is bright red and hot enough to melt steel.

Okay, corpse, a voice in my head says, and I feel a twitch in my belly, more like a gentle nudge than a kick. I'm going now. I'm sorry I couldn't be here for your battle; I was fighting my own. But we won, right? I can feel it. There's a shiver in our legs, a tremor like the Earth speeding up, spinning off into uncharted orbits. Scary, isn't it? But what wonderful thing didn't start out scary? I don't know what the next page is for you, but whatever it is for me I swear I'm not going to fuck it up. I'm not going to yawn off in the middle of a sentence and hide it in a drawer. Not this time. Peel off these dusty wool blankets of apathy and antipathy and cynical desiccation. I want life in all its stupid sticky rawness.

Okay.

Okay, R.

Here it comes. ~ Isaac Marion