Slender Man Short Quotes & Sayings

The shuttle tomorrow is truly like laying the last spike on the transcontinental railroad, only much more so. And whether or not we're going to see in in the next 10 or 20 years, there are people alive today who will see manufacturing in space from moon materials or from asteroids. — Jerry Brown

Glass. A broad resembles the a of the German; as all, wall, call. Many words pronounced with a broad were anciently written with au; as sault, mault; and we still say, fault, vault. This was probably the Saxon sound, for it is yet retained in the northern dialects, and in the rustick pronunciation; as maun for man, haund for hand. The short a approaches to the a open, as grass. The long a, if prolonged by e at the end of the word, is always slender, as graze, fame. A forms a diphthong only with i or y, and u or w. Ai or ay, as in plain, wain, gay, clay, has only the sound of the long and slender a, and differs not in the pronunciation from plane, wane. Au or aw has the sound of the German a, as raw, naughty. Ae is sometimes found in Latin words not completely — Samuel Johnson

He stalked through the narrow streets and wound his way down an alley between two buildings to an old, rotting wooden door. He paused to knock at it, three measured strokes followed by two quick ones, and it opened at once. Her batman, Sark, stood on the other side of it. The fellow reminded Espira of a hunting spider - he was warriorborn, tall, gaunt, with long, slender limbs and hands that seemed a little too large for the rest of him. His hair was black and short, and covered his face, head, neck, and what showed of his hands in a sparse, spidery fuzz. Sark had the feline eyes of his kind, one of them set at a slight angle to the other, so that Espira could never be sure precisely where the man was looking. — Jim Butcher

Learning without action is like wax without honey.
(Anwar-i-Suhaili) — Idries Shah

Every second the Universe divides into possibilities and most of those possibilities never happen. It is not a uni-verse - there is more than one reading. The story won't stop, can't stop, it goes on telling itself, waiting for an intervention that changes what will happen next.
Love is an intervention. — Jeanette Winterson

As we pass the mirror in the bedroom, my attention is drawn to the lovely couple in the reflection. There is a man, tall with broad shoulders. His red hair cut short. He has nothing but a towel on. In his arms is a female, slender but muscular. Her wheat colored hair is pulled back in a neat bun on top of her head. Both of their skin is smooth and flawless, a little paler than most, but still complete perfection. You can tell by the way the man holds her, he cares a lot for her. You can also tell that he is afraid of holding her too tight, not wanting to crush her smaller frame into his body. Looking at this young pair in the mirror, one can only wonder of all the possibilities. What led them to this place? What is in store for them? Will there be a happy ending? — Elle A. Rose

I just sought a way to be someone I wasn't. To be loved. — Mark David Chapman

Instead, take everything as it comes Accept your preferences, but do not insist on them Take other's views as their right, as you have yours Resist nothing- accept everything Stay here no matter what, and you achieve peace And allow it to others — Matthew S. Barnes

I was never meant to sit at home. — Tina Ambani

Mistakes - mistakes - you yourself are a unique mistake! — Ludwig Van Beethoven

I couldn't see who swam in the darkness, who wore shadows like a second skin. — Rachel Vincent

Dr. Shammaa's story was a dreadful one and her voice
broke as she told it. "I had to take the babies and put them
in buckets of water to put out the flames," she said. "When
I took them out half an hour later, they were still burning.
Even in the mortuary, they smouldered for hours." Next
morning, Amal Shammaa took the tiny corpses out of the
mortuary for burial. To her horror, they again burst into
flames. — Susan Abulhawa

Her religious poetry was surprisingly slender, and as I was eager to know more about her religion, I asked her about this aspect of her poetry. She replied with these lines from Keats' Ode to a Grecian Urn: 'Beauty is truth, truth beauty'
that is all Ye know on eath, and all ye need to know'. Do not ask me to immortalise the great Mystery of Life. I am just a humble worker. For beauty, look to the Pslams, to Isaiah, to St. John of the Cross. How could my poor pen scan such verse? For truth, look to the Gospels
four short accounts of God made Man. There is nothing more to say. — Jennifer Worth

Those treasures were stolen from the village they destroyed. The
man pulled out a carved wooden horse and the two boys grabbed it at the
same time. They pulled at it, fighting for possession.
Zane's carving. He shook his head and looked away, fighting tears. His
son's skilled fingers could carve any image. He'd inherited his mother's
slender hands.
Sweet revenge just became sweeter. — Jennifer M. Zeiger