K. Taylor Quotes
Love is a luxury.""No. Love is an element."An element. Like air to breathe, earth to stand on.
It was brave, " countered Issa. "It was rare. It was love, and it was beautiful.
So many things are possible as long as you don't know they are impossible.
It's not like there's a law against flying.""Yes there is. The law of gravity.
Anyone who takes on my sister, " he had postured once, all puffed-out bravado, "will have to deal with ...my sister." And then he'd dived behind her and cowered.
No man was ever yet a great poet, without at the same time being a profound philosopher.
Simon, she'd learned, was a man who studied people. He learned their weaknesses as a way of protecting himself.
He'd sooner die trying to hold the world on his shoulders than running away. Better always to run toward. And so he did.
There is just as much beauty in birth as there is in death, and it changes our lives just the same. They both add things to us and take things away." Pg. 155 Undone
With The Dread, first kiss was the beginning. Second kiss was the end.
He danced with the sky instead, and the sky dropped him like a rotten plum.
Gratitude is the root of all transformation and abundance.
Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns: And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns.
In Xanadu did Kubla KhanA stately pleasure-dome decree:Where Alph, the sacred river, ranThrough caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea.
Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony.
Ah! well a-day! what evil looks Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung.
Then all the charm Is broken--all that phantom-world so fair Vanishes, and a thousand circlets spread, And each mis-shape the other.
To be loved is all I need, And whom I love, I love indeed.
Some plant lips on Mother Earth in a display of gratitude.Meanwhile, she is kissing the soles of your feet, recognizing the one to be worshiped is you.
A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
The surge of his ardour swept through him in climatic release, filling her womb with his final, mortal sowing.
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea.
I know who you are. My father told me stories about you. He talked about your hands-hands that created the world surrendered to cruel nails
I know who you are. My father told me stories about you. He talked about your hands- hands that created the world surrendered to cruel nails
Learn the rules before you break them.
Art builds upon art, builds upon art...nothing is purely original. We're all inspired by something...or someone. It's a never-ending chain of ideas...and it's magical.
Where can you find opportunities? Dissect your excuses and you will find opportunities in abundance.
It's like a malicious person lifting a photograph from the developing chemicals too early, and then pronouncing the photographer incompetent.
Great relationships create great characters. Make them feel real. Alive. Tangible and unforgettable. Bad relationships kill them. Bury them. Make you wish they hadn't wasted your precious time.
You should know this about the rich: they always want to get richer. It is never boring, getting your hands on more money.
There was only present, and it was infinite. The past and the future were just blinders we wore so that infinity wouldn't drive us mad.
It is still this moment and that will be true of every moment that follows, assuming this moment ever ends, which, if I am lucky, it won't.
Be a Samurai.Because you just never know what's behind the freaking sky.
An attitude of gratitude goes a long way when it comes to physical and emotional healing.
Don't look at me like that, " said Ruza."Like what?""Like I'm a beautiful book you're about to open and plunder with your greedy mad eyes.
These scars that we have... they don't go away. They only fade with time, but they're still hauntingly there.
On the occasions that he did look up from the page, he would seem as though he were awakening from a dream.
He wasn't an alchemist, or a hero. He was a librarian, and a dreamer. He was a reader, and the unsung expert on a long-lost city no one cared a thing about.
It was a different life out here, but make no mistake: Lazlo was every bit the dreamer he had always been, if not more. He might have left his books, but he carried all his stories with him.