Sometimes I imagined how everything looked above those clouds, knowing without question that the sun was blond, and the endless atmosphere was a giant blue eye
She was still clutching the book.She was holding desperately on to the words who had saved her life.
It’s the leftover humans. The survivors. They’re the ones I can’t stand to look at, although on many occasions I still fail. I deliberately seek out the colors to keep my mind off them, but now and th...
It feels nice to emerge from the lies.
If I die anytime soon, you make sure they bury me right.
I... He struggled to answer. When everything was quiet, I went up to the corridor and the curtain in the livingroom was open just a crack... I could see outside. I watched, only for a few seconds. He...
I'm always finding humans at their best and worst. I see their ugly and their beauty, and I wonder how the same thing can be both. Still, they have one thing I envy. Humans, if nothing else, have the...
I'd rather chase the sun than wait for it. -Ed Kennedy
I am in all truthfulness attempting to be cheerful about this whole topic, though most people find themselves hindered in believing me, no matter my protestations. Please, trust me. I most definitely...
Humans, if nothing else, have the good sense to die.
He wanted to walk out—Lord, how he wanted to (or at least he wanted to want to)—but he knew he wouldn’t. It was much the same as the way he left his family in Stuttgart, under a veil of fabricated loy...
THE CONTRADICTORY POLITICS OF ALEX STEINER ***Point One: He was a member of the Nazi Party but he did not hate the Jews, or anyone else for that matter.Point Two: Secretly, though, he couldn’t help fe...
When life robs you, sometimes, you have to rob it back.
Very quickly, very suddenly, words fell through my mind. They landed on the floor of my thoughts, and in there, down there, I started to pick the words up. They were excerpts of truth gathered from in...
Touché.
Todo el mundo sabe que una bola de nieve en la cara es el comienzo perfecto de una amistad duradera.
Then the music begins and we can both hear the slow, quiet, sweet desperation of a song I won’t mention. Imagine the softest, toughest, most beautiful song you know, and you’ve got it.
The pages and the words are my world, spread out before your eyes and for your hands to touch.
Mama’s eyes were like pale blue cutouts, pasted to her face.
Make sure you live,' she said. 'As decent as you can. I know you'll make mistakes, but sometimes you're meant to, okay?