Story Quotes - Page 14

Walk into the unknown with what you know in your heart.

The flower doth not worry, and the tree doth not waver.

Love is the answer.

She said, I'm going to miss you when you when I wake up.Don't wake up, he answered.But he did.Kestrel, beside him on the grass, said. "Did I wake you? I didn't mean to."It took him a velvety moment to understand that this was real. The air was quiet. An insect beat it's clear wings. She brushed hair from his brow. Now he was very awake."You were sleeping so sweetly," she said."Dreaming" He touched her tender mouth."About what?""Come closer, and I will tell you."But he forgot. He kissed her, and became lost in the exquisite sensation of his skin becoming too tight for his body. He murmured other things instead. A secret, a want, a promise. A story, in its own way.She curled her fingers into the green earth

Worry notif you are in darknessand the void sucks you in further.This is not the place we go to die.It’s where we are bornand our stories begin.

Things can turn out differently Apollo. That's the nice thing about being human. We only have one life, but we can choose what kind of story it's going to be.

Any experience, which is not written, will be lost in time. Rich literature is lost forever.

Lailah Gifty Akita

The life of the spirit is enfold in great literature.

Lailah Gifty Akita

The greatest literature is the Biblical stories.

Lailah Gifty Akita

The story we write today will support the next generation.

Lailah Gifty Akita

Life is a great Book. We are writing the history of our time.

Lailah Gifty Akita

History has a way of chasing gravity just like water, feeding into other parts of itself to become something else, something larger and grander, until the one pure thing it was no longer exists.

Memory is a few lines snipped from a larger story that we are privileged to tuck away between the pages of our minds.

Craig D. Lounsbrough

This is Roshana, the last queen of the Amulen Empire, back when my people ruled all the lands from the east to the west. She is something of a legend among us. Every queen aspires to learn from her mistakes.”“Her mistakes? Surely you mean her victories.”“What?”I frown at her. “Roshana was one of the greatest queens in the world. She ended the Mountain Wars, she routed Sanhezriyah the Mad, she—”“For a foreign serving girl, you are strangely well versed in Amulen history.”“I spent a lot of time in libraries as a girl.”“Were you there to dust the scrolls or read them?”“Surely Roshana’s victories outweigh her errors.”“The higher you rise, the farther you fall. For all her wisdom, Roshana was fooled by the jinni, believing it was her friend, and then it destroyed her. Ever since that day, my people have hunted the jinn. There is no creature more vicious and untrustworthy.”“This is not the story I heard,” I say softly. “My people tell it differently. That the jinni truly was a friend to Roshana but was forced to turn against her. That she had no choice.”“Surely I know how my own ancestress died,” returns the princess, a bit hotly. “Anyway, it was a long time ago, but we Amulens do not forget.

The History of computers is amazing... people which tell the story are looking like they are having fun.

If the stones that we walked on could talk, they would surely tell our story." - Magnetic Reverie

Yes, if the stones that we walked on could talk, they would surely tell our story.

We think that history is created in the big things, in the big events, but history is also created in the small things that we do every day, in the personal choices we make— to think or not to think, to hold our tongues or to speak up, to act or not to act. Our actions have a ripple effect on those around us. Every time we conform or don't, we're shaping the world into our vision or someone else's vision. The universe isn't made up of atoms it's made up of stories, and these stories are shaped in college campuses and coffee houses around the country, not just in boardrooms and government buildings.

Sharanya Haridas

That was my story. Or at least the way I remember it. What happened to those characters and the places that had to do with those turbulent times, can be researched in libraries or the memories of the elderly. People like Beigbeder, Rosalinda, or Hillgarth went on to the history books.People like Marcus and me didn't. But that doesn't mean our lives were less important. Because, in the end, we all play a part in the world's fate. And Marcus and I always stood on the other side of the story.Actively invisible during that time we lived in between the seams.

That is the way we decided to talk, free and easy, two young men discussing a boxing match. That was the only way to talk. You couldn't let too much truth seep into your conversation, you couldn't admit with your mouth what your eyes had seen. If you opened the door even a centimeter, you would smell the rot outside and hear the screams. You did not open the door. You kept your mind on the tasks of the day, the hunt for food and water and something to burn, and you saved the rest for the end of the war.

Under every roof, a story, just as behind every brow, a history

Gregory Maguire

Most cowgirls are natural storytellers, their art honed by years of practice. . . . It serves as entertainment; it also preserves the humor and value of a unique way of life.

‎I was cursed with the pessimism of both the Russians and the Jews two of the gloomiest tribes in the world. Still if there wasn't greatness in me maybe I had the talent to recognize it in others even in the most irritating others.

No word matters. But man forgets reality and remembers words.

Most cowgirls are natural storytellers, their art honed by years of practice. . . . It serves as entertainment; it also preserves the humor and value of a unique way of life.

‎I was cursed with the pessimism of both the Russians and the Jews two of the gloomiest tribes in the world. Still if there wasn't greatness in me maybe I had the talent to recognize it in others even in the most irritating others.

No word matters. But man forgets reality and remembers words.

We do not want to deny existence. Yet we also do not want to limit existence. Thus, we observe and honor without forming opinion, labeling, or adding a story to the object of our observation.

Alaric Hutchinson

The only thing a closed book is good for is a table that wobbles. Be an open book.

Cry while writing it, and readers will cry while reading it.

How you feel after reading something indicates not what you’ve read but where you are at.

Oh, how scary and wonderful it is that words can change our lives simply by being next to each other.

School children, who have enjoyed reading a romance or a detective thriller or a novel about terror and conquest, make the invariable mistake of studying literature in the college. They make the mistake of learning theory in place of art; they acquire impediments in their own enjoyment of the books by allowing a set of theories to govern their own reading.

Anuradha Bhattacharyya

Stephen King is not a guy who keeps secrets the same goes and for Jeffery Deaver. But Jeffery Deaver creates characters and plays with them, Stephen King knows with who is playing, Jeffery Deaver just goes as how will happen, I think that and he doesn't know where the story lines will go.

He drifted about with his head full of myths, always at least half lost in some otherland of story. Demons and wingsmiths, seraphim and spirits, he love it all.

A good story invites us into someone else's world where we learn, discover commonalities, and leave with compassion and understanding.

Lynda Cheldelin Fell

Style jazzes up your canvas.

You are the Poem I dreamed of writing, the Masterpiece I longed to paint. You are the shining Star I reached for in my ever hopeful quest for life fulfilled. Yes, I am Blessed.

The sky blue strengthens slowly, the dawn light rosy and pale the summer song of our romance begin to unveil...with every heart beat and the waves' breath...the time stood in harmony still. Your morning kiss my hands could feel...by your lips soft, so warm, so very gentle, nice and full of life...

Soft on the neck of either dove love's hands let slip the reins: and while we look for light of love, love's twilight wanes...

Film is the ultimate canvas, the elixir of art, and the magic of life.

Infatuated painted clouds, enamored of our silky bed-lagoon, reflect with silent tremors your sweetest of the kisses...whispers...then lightly consume its shining sunset skin with loving smiles greeting the lacy starry night ahead...making our senses dance so softly stepping on to the adorn petals of the place no one else knows...

Art is everywhere.

All art is a form of vulnerability because at least part of the artist goes into the piece.

Every work of art tells a story.

Maybe stories choose how they are told and who tells them.

We are all born as storytellers. Our inner voice tells the first story we ever hear.

It is a dangerous thing to substitute reading or writing for living. Live first, then write.

Story is the umbilical cord that connects us to the past, present, and future. Family. Story is a relationship between the teller and the listener, a responsibility. . . . Story is an affirmation of our ties to one another.

Terry Tempest Williams

A fine work of art - music, dance, painting, story - has the power to silence the chatter in the mind and lift us to another place.

The more you've struggled, the more inspiring your story will be when you come out the other side. Do not give up. Today's struggle brings tomorrow's wisdom.

Vironika Tugaleva

Yes, You Can!You Can Turn Your... ...Adversity into Your Advantage...Mess into Your Message...Test into Your Testimony...Pain into Your Possibilities ...Setback into a Major Comeback...Gift into Greatness ...Passion into Profit...Success into Significance ...Limitation into Creativity Most importantly, you can and will turn your dreams into reality!

Give all of life’s oxygen to the fire that is your soul.

Tipani flower skies blazing rapture of color laced tree crowns silhouettes along the ocean diamond necklaced beach...of my heart in fragrance of love spilled by caressing kisses of the sun opening the gates to dive deep through away to horizons with no return...

Epiphanies awaken the soul.

If you don’t think screenwriting is a work of art, good luck in your life without a soul.

A silent velvet footstep filled me, unwelcome yet so needed. You finally found my hidden shore with grains of time and ocean of the most secret secrets, violet and red; left a trail of deep blue footsteps on my glowing beach of soul, and no matter how many times tides wash the golden sand anew, your prints can never be erased. Each one a shining star in my quiet Universe...

In my heaven sweet melodies of the skies ripple pool of the sea playing sweet song to me, sharing tales of the past, blending with mine as mirage, painting new...I breathe in, am in love and alive...

Crying cleanses the soul.

Film gives us a second chance at a first impression.

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