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Quote by A.J. Darkholme

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Rise of the Morningstar

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A.J. Darkholme

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“Ich liebe das Leben", gestand der Alte und wurde fast verlegen. "Ich liebe das Leben erst recht, seit ich arm bin. Manchmal könnte ich vor Freude in den Sonnenschein hineinbeißen oder in die Luft, die in den Parks weht. Wissen Sie, woran das liegt? Ich denke oft an den Tod, und wer tut das heute? Niemand denkt an den Tod. Jeder lässt sich von ihm überraschen wie von einem Eisenbahnzusammenstoß oder einer anderen unvorhergesehenen Katastrophe. So dumm sind die Menschen geworden. Ich denke täglich an ihn, denn täglich kann er winken. Und weil ich an ihn denke, liebe ich das Leben.”

LiebeLebenTodArm
Book:Fabian: die Geschichte eines Moralisten
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“To understand the neurodivergent mind is not to fix it, but to learn its language, honor its rhythm, and discover the strength in difference. This is where that journey begins.”

InspirationHopeCompassionIdentityEmpowermentMental HealthPersonal GrowthAuthenticitySelf AcceptanceNeurodiversity
Book:The Therapist's Handbook for Neurodivergent People: A NeuroFlex ACT Guide for Living Fully with ADHD, Autism, OCD, and a Neurodivergent Life
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“Hello, freak,” Drake said. Lana backed away, but too late. Drake leveled his gun at her. “I’m right-handed. ’Least I used to be. But I can still hit you from this distance.” “What do you want?” Drake motioned toward the stump of his right arm. It was gone from just above the elbow. “What do you think I want?” The one time she’d seen Drake Merwin, he had made her think of Pack Leader: strong, hyper alert, dangerous. Now, the lean physique looked gaunt, the shark’s grin was a tight grimace, his eyes were red-rimmed. His stare, once languidly menacing, was now intense, burning hot. He looked like someone who had been tortured beyond endurance. “I’ll try,” Lana said. “You’ll do more than try,” he said. He convulsed in pain, face scrunched. A low, eerie moan escaped his throat. “I don’t know if I can grow a whole arm back,” Lana said. “Let me touch it.” “Not here,” he hissed. He motioned with his gun. “Through the back door.” “If you shoot me, I can’t help you,” Lana argued. “Can you heal dogs? How about if I blow his brains out? Can you heal that, freak?”

DogHealFreakArmThreatenDrake MerwinLana
Author:Michael Grant
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