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P Quotes

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All P Quotes

“Perhaps someday, she would find the confidence to reject Ahmed bin Walid outright and stop hoping for something that tore her heart in two. But - the thought of losing her connection with him was just as terrifying as putting name to it in the first place. She'd always told herself it was easier to walk away from someone when she buried her feelings for them; she couldn't lose anyone she didn't commit herself to.”

“Perhaps someone may say 'But surely, Socrates, after you have left us you can spend the rest of your life in quietly minding your own business.' This is the hardest thing of all to make some of you understand. If I say that this would be disobedience to God, and that is why I cannot 'mind my own business', you will not believe that I am serious. If on the other hand I tell you that to let no day pass without discussing goodness and all the other subjects about which you hear me talking and examining both myself and others is really the best thing that a man can do, and that life without this sort of examination is not worth living, you will be even less inclined to believe me. Nevertheless, that is how it is, gentlemen, as I maintain; though it is not easy to convince you of it.”

“Perhaps, somewhere far East where the mothers and spouses of those left strewn across the grass sit and wait for their sons to come home, they think the same of their own precious ones. A hundred of her own would not be equal to one of theirs in their eyes. A funny sentiment, one that causes the slightest smile, unnoticed by all but one of those around her, to tilt the prince's lips up. They were all fools drenched in red, regardless of what deity or god it was in the name of.”

“Perhaps that closed door was going to end your life, and God chose to save you just in time. Perhaps that door was harbouring danger, and God wanted to preserve your heart. He closed that door out of love, and He will open another one for you to find a purposeful path.”

“Perhaps that is nearly the perfection of good writing which is original, but whose truth alone prevents the reader from suspecting that it is so; and which effects that for knowledge which the lens effects for the sunbeam, when it condenses its brightness in order to increase its force.”

“Perhaps that is our doom, our human curse, to never really know one another. We erect edifices in our minds about the flimsy framework of word and deed, mere totems of the true person, who, like the gods to whom the temples were built, remains hidden. We understand our own construct; we know our own theory; we love our own fabrication. Still . . . does the artifice of our affection make our love any less real?”

“Perhaps that is what life is all about—the search for such a connection. The search for magic. The search for the inexplicable. Not in order to explain it, or contain it. Simply in order to feel it. Because in that recognition of the sublime, we see for a moment the entire universe in the palm of our hand. And in that moment, we touch the face of God.”