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Quote by G.K. Chesterton

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The Sign of the Broken Sword: A Father Brown Mystery

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G.K. Chesterton

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“You know, people meet and sometimes they lock into each other like two long-sought-after pieces of a puzzle. Now, as time goes on, these pieces, they morph and they-they grow. And they can grow together and become stronger. Or they can become two completely different shapes that they don't have any room for each other, they don't fit anymore. If there's one thing I've learned in my life, you can't control what other people are going to do. No. No. They need their own space to become whatever weird-ass shape they're going to change into. It's nature. You can't control it, but you can accept it.”

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“A Oliveira le gustaba hacer el amor con la Maga porque nada podía ser más importante para ella y al mismo tiempo, de una manera difícilmente comprensible, estaba como por debajo de su placer, se alcanzaba en él un momento y por eso se adhería desesperadamente y lo prolongaba, era como un despertarse y conocer su verdadero nombre, y después recaía en una zona siempre un poco crepuscular que encantaba a Oliveira temeroso de perfecciones”

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“-Tu eres distinta-le dijo en voz baja, contra su piel-. Simplemente... tienes otro tipo de belleza. -¿De qué tipo? -De un tipo mucho más... etéreo. Victoria tragó saliva cuando notó que varios mechones de pelo oscuro le rozaban la piel. -No se que significa esa palabra-le dijo con un hilo de voz. Caleb volvió a sonreír contra su piel, pero esa vez levantó la cabeza y la miró. -Significa sutil. E intangible. Y perfecto.”

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Book:Etéreo
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“All my life, I'd been accustomed to thinking of life as things that moved: rabbits, dogs, fish, other people. Life that mattered had been life like me, life that breathed and bled, life that ate and slept. I'd been aware of that other layer of life, of the still but living things that supported it all, but I'd thought of it as the lower layer, as the less important stratum of life. Empty prairie was for plowing or grazing; land that was too poor for farming or cattle was wasteland. I'd never lived near a forest like this, but when I'd come to one, I'd understood why it existed. The trees were to be taken for lumber. The land had to be cleared to become useful. The idea that forest or prairie or even wasteland should be left as it was had never occurred to me. What good was land until it was tamed? What good was a piece of earth that did not grow wheat or fruit or grass for cattle? The value of every bit of land I'd ever trodden, I'd reckoned in terms of how it could benefit a man. Now I saw it with the eyes of a forest mage. Here life balanced as it had for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years. Sunlight and water were all that was required for the trees to grow. The trees made the food that fed not only whatever moving creatures might venture through this territory, but also became the food that replenished the soil when their leaves fell to rot back into earth. This working system was as refined and precise as any piece of clockwork ever engineered by man. It worked perfectly.”

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Book:Renegade's Magic
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