L V HALL Quotes
I don't care what it looks, I don't care what it feels like, I believe God.
She wondered what life would be like if there was always an arm around her shoulder and if there was a back that welcomed her hug all the time.
Ghosts are everywhere, not just the ghost of Momma in the woods, but ghosts of us too, what we used to be like in those long summers.
I never stopped loving her, " he said. "I couldn’t let her go. Once the past gets you in its clutches, well, you’ve got to want to fight to be released. I never did. That was my mistake.
It’s well to have such a comfortable assurance regarding the worth of those we love. I only wish you may not find your confidence misplaced.
To live in the shadow of another person...to desire to be adored as that person is....is the weakest ambition of all. Find yourself. Be loved as yourself.
If you think someone is humble, never tell them so. You will unknowingly rob them of the very thing you admire.
When I tell you not to marry without love, I do not advise you to marry for love alone - there are many, many other things to be considered.
A turquoise given by a loving hand carries with it happiness and good fortune."Arabic proverb
Hiding a wound can cause a serious infection without healing. It has to be exposed and washed. Sure, the cleansing may cause pain at first—but, in the end, it brings healing, as well as relief.
This typewriter is the only one that has listened to me throughout the years, the only one who wants to know the girl beneath my layers.
...their voices are quieter than the other groups around them, but their body language speaks volumes.
It was like I couldn't think of any words. Now I can think of about nine million." "How many words are in the English language?""Not the point.
My emotions are spiraling out of control. I never promised I would be logical at a time like this!
I feel like this is a horror story. That's how scared I am right now."Don't be scared.""That doesn't help.
Every day in New York City is a test. Work hard and pass this test, you get a chocolate cookie. From a strange man on the subway. A man without pants.
Walking the Camino de Santiago taught me the wonders of physical challenge, the wonders of spiritual freedom, and the wonders of baby powder.
The night before a deadline, I usually am in desperate need of a back rub. And new wrists. And candy. And little mice to secretly finish the job while I am sleeping.
If I had a nickel for all the times I've been shushed in my life? Bam! Instant millionaire!
Each night, I close my eyes and dream. In the morning, I open my eyes again, but the dreaming doesn't stop.
Sometimes I dream so vividly, so expectantly, I wonder if I'm crazy...
I know it's difficult in the beginning. But, listen. If you have the impulse to write, do yourself a favor, do the world a favor, and write.
No.'It's not a bad word. And it is very important to use at times. Practice saying it in the mirror. It's empowering.
I am swimming in a sea of words, attempting to keep my head above water.
Life baffles me most days. Maybe that's why I write. To try and make sense of it all.
I have written until I fell asleep with my computer on my lap. That can't be normal.
The defining lines of reality have always been a bit blurred for me.
I'm not gonna lie...sometimes this whole writing thing is a lonely business.
Most days, writing simply requires work-ethic, discipline, clarity, focus, time. Other days...it will demand absolutely everything of you.
That moment you realize you are doing the right thing for the wrong reasons and the wrong thing for the right reasons.
When a solid first draft of an original tale is complete...you feel as if you could do anything.
A writer writes. There are no exceptions to this reality. No excuses. Stop wasting time talking about your stories and get them on paper.
As you near a finish line, do not slow down. Instead, run faster. Give all you have left until it is done. It is then that you may collapse.
What you really want is all too often hidden just behind what you think you want.
Let life be the foundation. Be brave. Wander deep inside yourself to the little room no one knows about. Fling the door wide open and write.
Who am I?" She whispered. Alex opened his mouth as if to correct her, but then he said, "You are my love.
Let's just say you may regret that second piece of cake.' Oh my God. Regret cake? Whatever was about to happen must be truly evil.
Let me put it this way. You, my beautiful girl, have the power to really hurt me, with how I feel about you. Far more than anyone else ever has or ever could. I don’t know if you realize that.
