His Quotes
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My unconscious knows more about the consciousness of the psychologist than his consciousness knows about my unconscious.
Karl Kraus
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Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.
H. L. Hunt
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Look at his quotes. He did say they should have played harder
Champ Bailey
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He tried to reconstruct the story in his mind, but it kept getting confused, bleeding into itself like watercolors.
Catherynne M. Valente
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Nothing belongs more fully to an artist than his creation - even if you give him your youth, your money, your love, your courage, nothing belongs to you.
Consuelo de Saint-Exupéry
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When his eyes rested on her, he stopped. He’d been smiling before, in a friendly fashion. But what lit his face when he saw her was more than a smile, more than a grin. It was as if someone had thrown aside the curtains of a sickroom on a glorious morning, to let sunlight spill into every darkened corner.
Courtney Milan
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He stopped and leaned against a pole and looked up at the deaf and swollen sky. It was a movement of dark shapes, a hurrying, a running.
He closed his eyes.
Charles Beaumont
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If there was one thing she knew by then, by age twenty-two, it was that she had to get far away and stay away. Here in his world she was trapped in an intolerable corner, which seemed to grow tighter and tighter each year. And now no place in America felt right.
Nicole Mones
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His life story was the story of Patricia and him, after all, for better or worse, and if she ended his life might go on, but his story would be over.
Charlie Jane Anders
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Faith does not rest on your ability to feel God’s love, it rests on His ability to keep His promise.
Colin S. Smith
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A cold wind raced across the surrounding fields of wild grass, turning the land into a heaving dark-green ocean. It sighed up through the branches of cherry trees and rattled the thick leaves. Sometimes a cherry would break loose, tumble in the gale, fall and split, filling the night with its fragrance. The air was iron and loam and growth.
He walked and tried to pull these things into his lungs, the silence and coolness of them.
But someone was screaming, deep inside him. Someone was talking.
Charles Beaumont
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This time, his gaze fixed on her and stayed. The wind blew, whipping her skirts about her ankles, as if he'd called up a gale with the intensity of his stare.
Courtney Milan
