“ليس هناك آهة إلا ويسمعها، ولا ألم إلا ويعلم موضعه، ولا زفرة إلا ويرى نيرانها في الفؤاد”
Source: لأنك الله: رحلة إلى السماء السابعة
“It's useless being hung up over something that you can't prove.”
Source: Goodbye, Things: The New Japanese Minimalism
“The self- image model of happiness … is an approach to happiness that consists of three actions: (1) cultivating a self- image or story that gives us feelings of love and belonging and meaning and purpose, (2) getting the important people in our lives to tell that story about us, and (3) trying to embody that story more fully. When we’re able to manage these three tasks, we’re happy. When we’re struggling to manage them, we’re anxious. When we fail to manage them, we fall into depression or addiction or illness.”
Source: Chasing Peace: A Story of Breakdowns, Breakthroughs, and the Spiritual Power of Neuroscience
“A cold terror gripped the men then, a fear that burrowed deep into their guts. The land itself felt malevolent, alive with a dark force that sought to consume them.”
Source: The Bjornlinga Saga #1
“Kader", people called it --'destiny -- and said not more because people always gave simple names to the complex things that frightened them”
Source: 10 Minutes 38 Seconds in This Strange World
“. . . finding the familiarity of captivity more reassuring than the strange call of freedom.”
Source: 10 Minutes 38 Seconds in This Strange World
“Maybe the unknown is half the horror”
“Where is our mother?" the one with long, wavy hair asked. Hades could practically smell the fear rolling off her. Goodness, he loved that scent.”
Source: Bemused
“We experience social pain and physical pain in the same part of our brains.”
Source: Atlas of the Heart: Mapping Meaningful Connection and the Language of Human Experience
“Then there was darkness. The light from the oil lamp had gone off. She wasn't in the tub anymore. She had been wrapped in a thin cloth that impeded her movement, but she managed to pull it apart, to slide it away, and it slipped from her shoulders as neatly as the membrane she'd observed.
Wood. She could smell damp earth and wood, and when she raised a hand her knuckles hit hard surface and a splinter cut her skin.
Coffin. It was a coffin. The cloth was a shroud.”
Source: Mexican Gothic