Sometimes, when you’re sad you don’t know what to do, it helps to be angry. But then the tears come back again all the same, and you fall asleep with the salty taste of them on your lips.
She’d been so certain she knew every crevice of his heart, but Jacob was like a country she’d only traveled through halfway.
She was gone. And his heart was beating too loud and too fast. Into nothingness.
She was beginning to miss him when he wasn't near.
She shed no tears. She just sat there, as if someone had cut out her heart.
She read and read and read, but she was stuffing herself with the letters on the page like an unhappy child stuffing itself with chocolate. They didn’t taste bad, but she was still unhappy.
She had only to open a door, nothing but a door between the words,just large enough for her and Farid to pass through....
Perhaps, after all, this world was made of dreams, and an old man had merely found the words for them.
Manchmal hilft es, wütend zu werden, wenn man vor Traurigkeit nicht ein noch as weiß.
Ketakutan membunuh segalanya. Akal, hati dan juga fantasi
I know why you're here ... This world doesn't frighten you half as much as the other one. You have nothing and nobody to lose here. Except Fox, and she clearly worries more about you than you do about...
He looked so glorious. Just like the knights I had dreamed about when I was six years old, whacking at brambles iin our garden, imagining I was fighting dragons and giants with a sword that made me in...
Cielo, l'amore era un tormento. Chiunque avesse affermato il contrario non doveva aver mai provato quel maledetto fremito nel petto.
Because by now Elinor had understood this, too: A longing for books was nothing compared with what you could feel for human beings. The books told you about that feeling. The books spoke of love, and...
Only the powerful were hated, and that was what he was meant to be in this world.Powerful.
Мы оба знаем, какое это счастье - нырнуть в книгу и какое-то время жить внутри неё, но расстаться со своей историей и попасть в наш мир - это, как видно, никому не приносит счастья.
Writing stories is a kind of magic, too.
Whenever she wanted to escape her own thoughts, she went to books for help.
What's that sticky stuff called?
But after all, the villains are the salt in the soup of a story.