Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
Little rabbits have big ears.
Seek the tarnish and you shall find
A flower blooms best in a happy pot.
I don't think she's ever coming back.
I saw myself dancing alone, always alone.
People make the rules of society, not God.
Promises are lies wrapped in pretty ribbons -Cinnamon
If you hold a bird too tightly, you'll crush its wings
Life offers more than one chance, Cathy, you know that.
Love, in short is the most dangerous emotion human can experience
Beauty thinks it needs no talent and can feed on itself, so it soon dies.
Life is like that - twenty minutes of misery for every two seconds of joy.
you've got to learn something from every defeat in life or life will defeat you.
We lived in the attic, Christopher, Cory, Carrie, and me, Now there are only three.
Children are very wise intuitively; they know who loves them most, and who only pretends.
I am a pretty, useless ornament who always believed she'd have a man to take care of her.
Maybe thats because we take criticism best from those we love and those who love us-Ethan
Love doesn't always come when you want it to. Sometimes it just happens, despite your will.
Unless i'm reading an assignment or doing a paper or taking a test, i'm thinking about you.
Only someone who had cried a great deal understands why someone else wants to stop the tears.
There is no hate such as that born out of love betrayed- and my brain screamed out for revenge.
The creative genius begins in the idle moment, dreaming up the impossible, and later making it come true.
Tragedy had sent me headlong into reality. All the things I had seen before now looked different, even nature.
love, is an unnatural attachment to another living thing. it's the root cause of most personal problems people have.
...for everything can come to those who have the desire,the drive, the dedication, and the determination." v.c.andrews
You can trust a few some of the time, and most none of the time. Feel lucky if you have even one to trust all of the time.
What is normal? Normal is only ordinary; mediocre. Life belongs to the rare, exceptional individual who dares to be different.
I never realized that the blue sky I saw was not the soft, nurturing sky of spring, but the cold, chilling, lonely sky of winter
Dreams, I thought. They're the riches of a poor person, stashed in treasure chests buried deeply in the imagination. But are dreams enough?
It was the eyes. The secret of love was in the eyes. The way one person looked at another, the way eyes communicated and spoke when the lips never moved.
My thoughts took frantic flight, wanting to escape this prison, and seek out the wind so it could fan my hair and sting my skin, and make me feel alive again.
Time doesn't heal scars as most people commonly think. It simply makes them firmer, stiffer. One must accept it and not hope to mend and return to what he or she once was.
... and still I stayed to plan all my revenge, my vengeance against those who had turned me from good to evil, and made of me what I was going to be from this day forward.
Angel, saint, Devil's spawn, good or evil, you've got me pinned to the wall and labeled as yours until the day I die. And if you die first, then it won't be long before I follow.
Mine are the deep-seated fears established when we are children, and they never quite go away: the fear of being helpless, the fear of being trapped, the fear of being out of control.
I believe in God... but I don't believe in religion. Religion is used to manipulate and punish. Used in a thousand ways for profit for even in the church, money is still the 'real' God.
I wish the night would end, I wish the day'd begin, I wish it would rain or snow, or the wind would blow, or the grass would grow, I wish I had yesterday, I wish there were games to play.
At the end of the rainbow waited the pot of gold. But rainbows were made of faint and fragile gossamer-and gold weighed a ton-and since the world began, gold was the reason to do most anything.
There was a war going on in our house. A silent war that sounded no guns, and the bodies that fell were only wishes that died and the bullets were only words and the blood that spilled was always called pride.
People never really died. They only went on to a better place, to wait a while for their loved ones to join them. And then once more they went back to the world, in the same way they had arrived the first time around.
It's funny how when you're little, you miss all the little lies. They float right past you, but you don't wonder about them much. For a long time, you think this is just something adults still do after being kids - pretend.
Love, how often that word came up in books over and over again. If you had wealth and health, and beauty and talent...you had nothing if you didn't have love. Love changed all that was ordinary into something giddy, powerful, drunken, enchanted.
Patience. I colored patience gray, hung over with black clouds. I colored hope yellow, just like the sun we could see for a few short morning hours. Too soon the sun rose high in the sky & disappeared from view, leaving us bereft and staring at blue.
Love … I put so much faith in it. Truth … I kept believing it falls always from the lips of the one you love and trust the most. Faith … it’s all bound up to love and trust. Where does one end and the other start, and how do you tell when love is the blindest of all?
Love, when it came and knocked on my door, was going to be enough. And that unknown author who'd written that if you had fame, it was not enough, and if you had wealth as well, it was still not enough, and if you had fame, wealth, and also love ... still it was not enough - boy, did I feel sorry for him.
It is so appropriate to color hope yellow, like the sun we seldom saw. And as I begin to copy from the old memorandum journals that I kept for so long, a title comes as if inspired. 'Open the Window and Stand in the Sunshine.' Yet, I hesitate to name our story that. For I think of us more as flowers in the attic.
Perhaps lovers aren't supposed to look down at the ground. That kind of story is told in symbols-and earth represents reality, and reality represents frustrations, chance illnesses, death, murder, and all kinds of other tragedies. Lovers are meant to look up at the sky, for up there no beautiful illusions can be trampled upon.
You are the most dangerous kind of female the world can ever know. You carry the seeds for your own destruction and the destruction of everyone who loves you. And a great many will love you for your beautiful face for your seductive body; but you will fail them all because you will believe they all fail you first. You are an idealist of the worst kind - the romantic idealist. Born to destroy and self destruct.
You trap yourself sometimes, by thinking desire and need is love. Love is something far more precious, but something far more fragile. As fragile as one of our tiniest, most intricate, most delicately crafted toys. Hold on to it too tightly, and it will crumble on your fingers, but hold on to it loosely, and the wind might blow it away and shatter it on the cold ground. Listen to the voice comes from your heart, but be absolutely sure the voice comes from your heart.
After it's all over, the early childhood, a chain of birthdays woven with candlelight, piles of presents, voices of relatives singing and praising your promise and future, after the years of schooling, fitting yourself into different size desks, memorizing, reciting, reporting, and performing for jury after jury of teachers, counselors, and administrators, you still feel inadequate, alone, vulnerable, and naked in a world that can be unforgiving and terribly demanding.