“I could see Isobel's body floating in a dark, broiling sea. There was a massive storm raging. I knew that I had once been Isobel, but now I didn't have a body. I was floating in all-embracing golden light. I felt comfortable and warm and untouched by the elements. Even though I didn't have a body, I felt quite whole and at one with my surroundings. I realized I could see in all directions. Looking at Isobel's body, I felt no emotions. I felt no fear and no loneliness, although I seemed to be alone. Then the light spread and I appeared to be moving up. I felt tremendous warmth and love and happiness. All around me was golden light, as though I were basking in very bright sunshine. There was no division, no separateness. All was one. It was incredibly beautiful and peaceful. I saw flashes of pastel rainbow hues and heard hundreds of voices singing simple but beautiful melodies. I just floated there happily, feeling I was a part of it all, that I truly belonged.” SpiritualityConsciousnessAfterlifeReincarnationMetaphysicsSoul JourneyNear Death ExperiencePast LivesJoel WhittonLife Between Life Book:Life Between Life Source: Life Between Life
“We walked through a high hallway into a bright rosy-colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end. The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house. A breeze blew through the room, blew curtains in at one end and out the other like pale flags, twisting them up toward the frosted wedding-cake of the ceiling, and then rippled over the wine-colored rug, making a shadow on it as the wind does on the sea.” The Great GatsbyF Scott Fitzgerald Author:F. Scott Fitzgerald
“He stayed there for a week , walking the streets where their footsteps had clicked together through the November night and revisiting the out-of-the-way places to which they had driven in her white car.” The Great GatsbyPage 160 Author:F. Scott Fitzgerald
“Something in his leisurely move- ments and the secure position of his feet upon the lawn suggested that it was Mr. Gatsby himself, come out to deter- mine what share was his of our local heavens.” The Great GatsbyNick CarrawayJay GatsbyFrancis Scott Fitzgerald Author:Francis Scott Fitzgerald
“trying to tough what was no longer tangible, struggling unhappily, undespairingly, toward that lost voice across the room.” The Great GatsbyPage 142 Author:F. Scott Fitzgerald
“He broke off and began to walk u and down a desolate path of fruit rinds and discarded favors and crushed flowers.” The Great GatsbyPage 116 Author:F. Scott Fitzgerald
“Through all he said, even through his appalling sentimentality, i was reminded of something - an elusive rhythm, a fragment of lost words, that i had heard somewhere a long time ago. For a moment, a phrase tried to take shape in my mouth and my lips parted like a dumb man's, as though there was more struggling upon them than a wisp of startled air. But they made no sound, and what i had almost remembered was uncommunicable forever.” The Great Gatsby Author:F. Scott Fitzgerald
“But an inferior talent can only be graceful when it's carrying inferior ideas. And the more narrowly you can look at a thing the more entertaining you can be about it.” HumorPerspectiveEntertainmentNarrowness Book:The Beautiful and Damned Source: The Beautiful and Damned
“You had to be fundamentally stupid, I sometimes thought, to become the sort of academic specialist that hiring committees liked. You had to be thick somehow. You had to block out all the other things in the world to focus on one narrow, particular thing.” StupidThickThingsAcademicsNarrowNarrownessBlocksSpecializeHiring Committees Book:A Terrible Country Source: A Terrible Country
“Prayer for My Son The low river flows like smoked glass. Small bass guard their nest. Next To our house, the cardinals in their Crabapple feed two open mouths. Parents and offspring, we flex And swing in this future’s coming, Mirror we look into only darkly. My youngest is boarding an airplane To a New York he’s never seen. Raised in such slumberous innocence Of Bible schools and lemonade, I adjust poorly to this thirst for Fame, this electronic buzz prizing Brilliance and murderers. Oh son, Know that the psyche has its own Fame, whether known or not, that Soul can flame like feathers of a bird. Grow into your own plumage, brightly, So that any tree is a marvelous city. I wave from here by this Indian Eno, Whose lonely name I make known.” SpiritualityWishNostalgiaMelancholyParenthoodComingofageContemporarypoetryNaturevscity Book:Selected poems Source: Selected poems