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A Quotes

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All A Quotes

“ARIEL! You're SINGING!" An explosion of grey and white feathers landed on the beach next to them. As soon as he recovered himself, Scuttle threw his wings around her in a gull-y embrace. "I am," she said, stroking his head. "Oh, it's so good to hear you," Scuttle said with a sigh. "It does my old heart... It's just the best." Ariel smiled. There was something specifically beautiful about what he had said: It's so good to hear you. He didn't say anything about her singing, just that it was good to hear her voice. He was genuinely pleased just that she had her voice back- whatever she chose to do with it. This is a friend.”

“Arik and Cadie always knew they wouldn't be one of those couples that let problems between them fester. They would immediately address any issues that arose, bring them out into the open, discuss them until they reached a mutually satisfactory conclusion. They felt bad for some of the Founders who they believed had unhappy marriages — couples who were not strong enough to be truthful and open with each other, and even worse, with themselves”

“Arimas stemme var dyb og syngende. ”Har I aldrig tænkt på, hvordan alle sagn og gamle historier handler om lyset mod mørket, om det gode mod det onde? Dualiteten er ikke sand, men den er nemmere at forklare. Karawianerne er mørket, men de er også lys. De kæmper mod os, fordi de lever mørket. Selv de mennesker eller andre væsener, der kaldes onde, er af lyset. Alt er lyset, men nogle glemmer det mere end andre. De tog mørket som herre, og det giver dem et formål med livet. Før mørket opstod, var de bare mennesker.” Mayin nikkede på den anden side af bålet, og Soral kiggede hen på hende. ”Der er ikke noget, der af natur er ondt, Mayin,” sagde han. ”Der er ikke noget, der fuldt ud er det modsatte af lys. Som sådan kan man sige, at alt er lys, bare i forskellige nuancer.” Enilia sendte et skævt smil over bålet til Soral. Det var en god måde at sige det på.”

“Arin, are you all right?" "How?" He managed. "How did her arm break?" "She fell of a ladder." He must have visibly relaxed, because his cousin raised her brows and looked ready to scold. "I imagined something worse," he tried to explain. She appeared to understand his relief that pain, if it had to come, came this time without malice. Just and accident. Done by no one. The luck, sometimes of life. A bad slip that ends with bread, and someone to bind you.”

“Arin took the basket from her. "Coming or going?" "I've a errand here, and won't be home until late." "Shall I guess what brings you to town?" "You can try." He peeked in the basket. Bread, still warm from the oven. A bottle of liquor. Long, flat, pieces of wood. Rolls of gauze. "A picnic...with a wounded soldier? Sarsine," he teased, "is it true love? What's the wood for? Wait, don't tell me. I'm not sure I want to know." She swatted him. "The cartwright's oldest daughter has a broken arm.”

“Arion, can you help me find the snow village in the basement?” Snow village? That voice. I closed my eyes, the little hairs on my neck rising. Winter. She was home, after all. “What? Now?” Arion whined. “Have Mom help you when she gets back.” Get the fuck out of the pool and get her what she wants. “I don’t know why you want it.” Arion took my beer again. “It’s not even Halloween yet, and you can’t see the damn thing anyway. What’s the point?” Bitch.”

“Arise! Arise! Arise and shine! May Christ message of eternal life fill your heart with everlasting love, hope, happiness and new dreams.”

“Arise for the work of humankind. Be humble. However grand you are today or may become tomorrow, you too will be forgotten. There are no places for us in the crypt of Westminster Abbey. Even if there were, with the centuries, our accomplishments would be forgotten and our names become puzzles. But our moral sentiments can live on as memes that multiply through values in the service of others. A worthy past sedimented into a better future.”

“Arise, my friend – the world is wailing for kindness – it is wailing for compassion – it is wailing for love.”

“Arise my Sister! Awake my Sister! Start walking in the path of building your own identity!”

“Arise, O Atlas (Sonnet 1100) Vakna, Stå upp, o Modige Atlas! Ta världen på din axel, Förkasta allt som är ojust. Awake, Arise, O Atlas Supreme, Take the world on your shoulder. Denounce all roots of hate and hurt, Wielding your humanitarian viking thunder. I don't write for creatures of gutter, I write for those craving for open skies. If you can give up your golden fancies, I'll give you a world beyond the lies. Despierta, levántate, oh loco amante! El mundo entero está a tu cuidado. Give up your aphrodisiac of wild ancestry, Somos humanos cuando nos descubrimos en cada humano.”

“Arise, O Atlas (Sonnet 1100) Vakna, Stå upp, O Modige Atlas! Ta världen på din axel, Förkasta allt som är ojust. Awake, Arise, O Atlas Supreme, Take the world on your shoulder. Denounce all roots of hate and hurt, Wielding your humanitarian viking thunder. I don't write for creatures of the gutter, I write for those craving for open skies. If you can give up your golden fancies, I'll give you a world beyond the lies. Despierta, levántate, oh loco amante! El mundo entero está a tu cuidado. Give up your aphrodisiac of wild ancestry, We are human, cuando nos descubrimos en cada humano.”

“Arise O lion-heart! Awake, O great soldier! Misery has come upon the world. It is wailing for help. It is wailing for redemption. Won’t you do anything, my friend!”

“Arise Reborn! by Stewart Stafford In cosy choice, the complacent lie, Teasing open the serpent's eye, To outflank, usurp then suppress, A deceiver's mask under duress. Delusion lays a gossamer snare, Flicking forked tongues tasting air, Devotion to clan, a dying dream, Delirious mining of treachery's seam. Battle drums as heroes rise, Saving tribe and land by surprise, The call to action, your country's plea, The broad church of necessity. Lessons echo in infancy's steps, Territory gained, homeland re-annexed, Skirmishes coalesce in a patriot's war, To campfire tales of visionary valour. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

“Arise! Arise! A tidal wave is coming! Onward! Men and women, down to the Chandala (Pariah) - all are pure in his eyes. Onward! Onward! There is no time to care for name, or fame, or Mukti, or Bhakti! We shall look to these some other time. Now in this life let us infinitely spread his lofty character, his sublime life, his infinite soul. This is the only work - there is nothing else to do.”

“Arise, awake! This path is arduous. So we learn from the wise, and we have to follow in the footsteps of the wise. The path of spirituality is not a bed of roses. But neither is it a chimerical mist. The Golden Shores of the Beyond are not a mere promise. The crown of human aspiration is bound to be fulfilled on the Golden Shores of the Beyond.”