Love is a popular romantic notion that leads to nothing but its own brand of misery.
Manufactured--synthetic--even virtual, if that is what you turned out to be--I would love you.
A truth comes out when it must; A dream comes true when it will. Though the world turn to ash and dust A secret’s a secret still.
She smiled, if he could see that, and waited for him to ask the real question. But he was silent. He wanted her to volunteer the story, she realized, and she could just as easily choose to say nothing. But he deserved to know. They all deserved it, and Kirra already knew it, and Cammon may have guessed it, because Cammon could read souls, but Tayse was the only one she would tell.
she had something I could not have, and so I resented her—but I realized the fault was mine and not hers.
You have not traveled enough," she said. "Or you'd know that every journey makes its own map across your heart.
He looked down at his empty glass. "One of the other ways in which I am different from my father," he said. "I am not interested in marrying where I do not love." I spoke in a jesting voice. "And of all the women in the eight provinces, you have not been able to find one you could love?" Now he looked at me again, and his face was completely serious. "That's the problem," he said. "There is one.
I realized a long time ago, with a certain amazement, that no mattter how important something is in your life, no matter how huge it is, how much space it takes up in your heart and in your thoughts, unless you mention it to other people, they have no idea it exists.
So do I wish I was to be king? That is not a question I ask myself. I ask myself, Would I be a good king? Would I be quick witted and generous of spirit and full of that boundless energy? Or would I be clumsy and stupid and dulled by my own prejudices? I try to be a good man, since I am alive at all, and hope that that teaches me what I would need to know if I was ever faced with a higher challenge.
If there is no god, what is left but science? What is left to endow us with any grace? You can tell me the chemical makeup of my skin and my brain, but how can you explain away my soul? And if there is no god to watch over me, chastise me, grieve for me, rejoice for me, make me fear, and make me wonder, what am I but a collection of metals and liquids with nothing to celebrate about my daily living?
She shouldn't leave you. Or you shouldn't leave her. I haven't worked it out yet. But you shouldn't be apart.
If mankind's greatest achievement is to produce more spaces for mankind to live in, I do not think I am so impressed.
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