Quotes & Sayings About Summer Lasting Forever

The ability of mixing sweetness with sarcasm, to the point that the other person has no idea if I'm being rude or not. It's an art really - charlie — Megan Whitmer

Celaena's scream was still echoing through the passageway as Chaol leapt off the stairs and hurtled through the misty portal after Fleetfoot. — Sarah J. Maas

I can't remember a time when I stepped into an airport or train station without wishing I were somewhere else, doing almost anything else. Just thinking about traveling gives me the willies. Traveling and dyslexia don't really get along. — Philip Schultz

I don't tend to listen to music in training, except maybe the radio in the gym. I do use music prior to racing though; it helps to fire me up plus it's good for blocking out the distractions around me. — Chris Hoy

Black trauma is never given space to heal because we have to make sure the white people who hurt us don't feel too bad about it. Even as victims, we're told to care about the feelings of those who harm us. — Luvvie Ajayi

In a way winter is the real spring, the time when the inner things happen, the resurge of nature. — Edna O'Brien

The devil is a good actor," smiled Domingo. — W. Somerset Maugham

One way of legitimising coincidences, of course, is to call them ironies. That — Julian Barnes

Give up defining yourself - to yourself or to others. You won't die. You will come to life. And don't be concerned with how others define you. When they define you, they are limiting themselves, so it's their problem. Whenever you interact with people, don't be there primarily as a function or a role, but as the field of conscious Presence. You can only lose something that you have, but you cannot lose something that you are. — Eckhart Tolle

Healing is as incremental and mysterious as the damage ... what took time, takes time. — William P. Young

Pulling off the fat diamond engagement ring,
pulling off the elopement wedding ring,
and holding them, clicking them
in thumb and forefinger,
the indent of twenty-five years,
like a tiny rip leaving its mark ... — Anne Sexton

Every morning I take out my bankbook, stare at it, shudder - and turn quickly to my typewriter. — Sydney J. Harris