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Quote by Avijeet Das

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Avijeet Das

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“But somehow, I don't wind up on a tour of this soggy house. I wind up sitting in a cracked plastic Adirondack chair by the fire with Buck and -I think?- Chip and Lita-the-soon-to-be-rafting-guide, ranking Nicholas Cage movies by various criteria as the deep blues and purples of twilight melt into the deeper blues and blacks of night, the starry sky seeming to unfurl over us like a great, light-pricked blanket.”

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Book:People We Meet on Vacation
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“Magical realism is a rain of flowers falling during a funeral, no one asking why. It is finding a dull reference to a non-existent country in an old encyclopedia, and then finding an explanation which leads to a further secret deeper in. It's a bridge bursting into fire after you cross. In pure form it is never explained, which means that just possibly it is not even unnatural.”

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Book:The Origin of Birds in the Footprints of Writing
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“Today, I wish to remind you that everyone alive is living life, but not everyone feels fulfilled, happy & healthy. Darling listen – your life can become beautiful & meaningful when it creates an impact & makes a difference – to you & others. A meaningful life also includes a sense of connection to something bigger than yourself (God). The most powerful thing you can do to make your life meaningful is pursue those things that you find gratifying & improve your connection to God. Life will become more beautiful when you begin to shift your focus from your selfish wants & desires to adding value to those who care for you & have your back. I Pray God to help you in becoming more healthy, happy, fulfilled & meaningful!”

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Author:Rajesh Goyal
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“He is even more horrifically beautiful than I was able to recall. They're all beautiful, unless they're hideous. That's the nature of the Folk. Our mortal minds cannot conceive of them; our memory blunts their power. His every finger sparks with a ring. An etched and jeweled breast-plate in polished gold hangs from his shoulders, covering a frothy white shirt. Boots curl up at his toes and rise high over his knees. His tail is visible, curled to one side of his leg. I suppose he has decided it is no longer something he needs to hide. At his brow, of course, is the Blood Crown. He regards me with gold-rimmed black eyes, a smirk hovering at the corners of his mouth. His black hair tumbles around his face, unbound and a little messy, as though he's recently risen from someone's bed.”

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Book:The Queen of Nothing
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