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A Quotes

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All A Quotes

“And Each Time You Halt and Look Back, You’ll Realise Everything in Life was Planned and Nothing Ever was Accidental, it was Never A Coincidence it was Always Him. The Happiness, The Pain, The Lessons, The Blessings, The Lost Hopes and Forgotten Dreams, The Endings and Beginnings, Everything fell in your Lap as was His Design. And then You know, it was Never for Nothing, Everything meant Something that Probably will Make sense Someday. Until Then, Keep the Faith, Walk the Path and Wear Your Grace as Your Most Ornate Armour and Know in Your Heart, Nothing was Ever Accidental and Everything was A Part of His Plan and Always Will Be, and the Most Funny and Reassuring Truth, Your Soul Chose It All, Long Before you Took This Human Shell, Long Before You Knew the Wound of Pain and the Balm of Healing, Long Before this Human Halt, Long Before this Winter of Life that stands only for a while before the Spring walks in to remind you How Nothing Stays forever, not even the Pain or the lingering Halt of it all.”

“And efforts are painstaking always,since you are into this mystical universe to practice a technique,every learning is a slow process, gradually you will master it by time and if you are able to grasp things more quickly in a limited spell, as your experience is advancing, you are almost nearing to be a maestro.Our world doesn't need incompetence anymore, but needs high skills or talents to do the job done quickly with desire and ambition.”

“And Eleanor's husband was the man who did the interning. And I think they - Governor Warren, who was later to become such an impassioned Chief Justice on all sorts of human rights issues, was very big in the internment process. And I think that we simply sometimes tend not to understand or remember how people felt.”

“And Emily had yet to shed a single tear. It troubled her all the way back to the city, and she rode with one hand sandwiched between her cheek and the cool, shuddering glass of the limousine window, as if that might help. She tried whispering 'Daddy' to herself, tried closing her eyes and picturing his face, but it didn't work. Then she thought of something that made her throat close up: she might never have been her father's baby, but he had always called her 'little rabbit.' And she was crying easily now, causing her mother to reach over and squeeze her hand; the only trouble was that she couldn't be sure whether she cried for her father or for Warren Maddock, or Maddox, who was back in South Carolina now being shipped out to a division. But she stopped crying abruptly when she realized that even that was a lie: these tears, as always before in her life, were wholly for herself—for poor, sensitive Emily Grimes whom nobody understood, and who understood nothing.”

“And Esme remembered in a rush--the wolfsong, the haunting, lyrical spirals of it in the dawn quiet and the feeling of euphoria that had attended it. Even in recollection the howling uplifted her like the crescendo at the end of a symphony and made her heartbeat quicken.”

“And even if she isn’t—even if by some miracle, she survived the escape and has been squeezing out a living in the Wilds—she would never join forces with the resisters. She would never be violent or vengeful. Not Lena, who used to practically faint when she pricked a finger, who couldn’t even lie to a teacher about being late. She wouldn’t have the stomach for it.”

“And even if there were souls, and there was a devil, he's not going around granting fame and fortune just for your soul in return. If he is, he's a fucking idiot. According to the standards of the Bible, most people are Hellbound anyway, so it ain't like Satan would be hurting for more souls, he's already got a shit-ton of souls. Satan going around granting fame and fortune just for Kanye West's soul would be like an apple farmer paying ten million dollars for a fucking apple.”

“And even if these scenes from our youth were given back to us we would hardly know what to do. The tender, secret influence that passed from them into us could not rise again. We might be amongst them and move in them; we might remember and love them and be stirred by the sight of them. But it would be like gazing at the photograph of a dead comrade; those are his features, it is his face, and the days we spent together take on a mournful life in the memory; but the man himself it is not.”

“And even if we win, if we win, HAH! Even if we win! Even if we play so far above our heads that our noses bleed for a week to ten days; even if God in Heaven above comes down and points his hand at our side of the field; even if every man woman and child held hands together and prayed for us to win, it just wouldn't matter because all the really good looking girls would still go out with the guys from Mohawk because they've got all the money! It just doesn't matter if we win or we lose. IT JUST DOESN'T MATTER! It just doesn't matter! It just doesn't matter!”