I can feel myself holding a child, thought Joanna. Sleep, my child, sleep, I tell you. The child is warm and I am sad.

It was darker, all she could see of him was a shadow. He was fading more and more, slipping through her hands, dead at the bottom of sleep.

Where does music go when it’s not playing?—she asked herself. And disarmed she would answer: May they make a harp out of my nerves when I die.

She felt the phrase “demand her rights” had lain inside her forever, waiting.

But she didn’t want to rest! – Her blood ran through her more slowly, its pace domesticated, like a beast that had trained its steps to fit in its cage.

Dying is something else. Dying is different to good and bad.

The steel suddenly touched her heart. Ah, jealousy, it was jealousy, the cold hand mashing her slowly, squeezing her, diminishing her soul.

Inside her it was as if death didn’t exist, as if love could weld her, as if eternity were renewal.

- How does it feel to have a daughter?- At times it's like holding a warm egg in my hand.

Writing a main character is very important to me. Because each time I create one, it feels like another piece of me in a different world.

Water is becoming a very scarce resource on a daily basis. Therefore, we need to teach communities to preserve it since we can't afford to live without water.

Power is never measured by what you can give but by what you can actually take!

All is a forever.

Chicken fat, beef fat, fish fat, fried foods - these are the foods that fuel our fat genes by giving them raw materials for building body fat.

I made up my mind, but I made it up both ways.

Life does not wait: Whether we spend our lives meaningfully or not, the time will be used up moment by moment.

My work has no theme. I don't care if my photographs get published, and I have no interest in the news. But the invasion of Prague was not news, it was my life.

Maybe you could casually mention to Zoe that I'm not now, nor have I ever been, an axe murderer." "I'll see if I can work it into our next conversation," Flynn promised.

My days among the dead are passed; Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old; My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day.