Equivalences Belgique Quotes & Sayings

I love every part of the book writing process from the excitement of the initial idea to weaving all the tiny elements of the story from the air. I draw my inspiration from the landscape around me, from quirky characters I meet and from the strange and convoluted thoughts that dance between my ears. — JoAnne Graham

trust me you will never remember this day. When you grow up, you will probably never be friends with the people that are sitting next to you today. — Patrick Allen

I never go to these showbiz parties. I avoid them with a 10-inch pole. — Chris O'Dowd

Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return. — Mary Jean Irion

Remembrance is to the heart what water is to the fish. And what is the state of a fish that leaves water? — Ibn Taymiyyah

Whatever the hell was going on with this guy, he reminded Harley of a rat. Harley hated rats. It made him want to whack the dude in the face with a bat. — Amy Cook

Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever, he said. — Cormac McCarthy

Falling in love, we said; I fell for him. We were falling women. We believed in it, this downward motion: so lovely, like flying, and yet at the same time so dire, so extreme, so unlikely. God is love, they once said, but we reversed that, and love, like heaven, was always just around the corner. The more difficult it was to love the particular man beside us, the more we believed in Love, abstract and total. We were waiting, always, for the incarnation. That word, made flesh.
And sometimes it happened, for a time. That kind of love comes and goes and is hard to remember afterwards, like pain. You would look at the man one day and you would think, I loved you, and the tense would be past, and you would be filled with a sense of wonder, because it was such an amazing and precarious and dumb thing to have done; and you would know too why your friends had been evasive about it, at the time.
There is a good deal of comfort, now, in remembering this. — Margaret Atwood