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Quote by Ransom Riggs

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Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

This novel is a blend of fantasy and historical fiction, following the journey of a young boy who uncovers a hidden world of peculiar children with unique talents. Set during World War II, the story delves into the lives of these children and their mysterious guardian, Miss Peregrine, as they face danger and uncover secrets from the past. more

Author

Ransom Riggs
Ransom Riggs

Ransom Riggs is an American writer known for his unique literary style and modern interpretations of classic stories. Born in 1980, he graduated from Stanford University with a major in English literature. Riggs' works often blend fantasy, suspense, and literary elements, enjoying great popularity among readers. more

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“But who is this self that is to be renounced and to have no benefit? It seems that *you* yourself are supposed to be it. And for whose benefit is unselfish self-renunciation recommended to you? Again, for *your* benefit and behoof, only through that unselfishness you are procuring your "true benefit." You are to benefit *yourself*, and yet you are not to seek *your* benefit”

“II A grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear, A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief, Which finds no natural outlet, no relief, In word, or sigh, or tear — O Lady! in this wan and heartless mood, To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo'd, All this long eve, so balmy and serene, Have I been gazing on the western sky, And its peculiar tint of yellow green: And still I gaze — and with how blank an eye! And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars, That give away their motion to the stars; Those stars, that glide behind them or between, Now sparkling, now bedimmed, but always seen: Yon crescent Moon as fixed as if it grew In its own cloudless, starless lake of blue; I see them all so excellently fair, I see, not feel how beautiful they are! III My genial spirits fail; And what can these avail To lift the smothering weight from off my breast? It were a vain endeavour, Though I should gaze for ever On that green light that lingers in the west: I may not hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.”