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Message Quotes

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Message Quotes

“It is as simple as that. Whatever the client most desires to come true, the psychic makes sure she sees it happening. In this day and age, this kind of highly reassuring message is perhaps the only one people cannot readily obtain from the media or anywhere else. Many, it seems, are prepared to pay good money to hear it said in a way that at least sounds sincere, reassuring, and credible.”

“Dust sleeping on your bookshelf and all your plants are drying out you are too busy to save yourself is your mind heading for burnout? Coffee rings on your bedside table anxiety pills under your pillowcase working round the clock to foot the bill is there no time for breakfast these days? Friends haven't seen you in a while your phone is always out of reach you're slowly forgetting how to smile is your silence a figure of speech? Life can sometimes seem to be unfair but hoping is better than you think send the message in a bottle if you dare is it so hard to not force yourself to sink?”

“It was a stick-figure drawing. Two people holding hands. A thin man in black and a girl, half his height with short hair, and wide eyes. The stick-girl’s head was cocked slightly, and a small red spot marked her arm. Three similar spots, no bigger than periods, dotted the stick-man’s chest. The stick-man’s mouth was nothing more than a faint grim line. Beneath the drawing ran a single sentence: I made a friend. Victor. “You okay?” Eli blinked, felt the cop’s hand on his arm. He slid free, folded the paper, and put it in his pocket before anyone could see or say otherwise…Eli went back the way he’d come. He didn’t stop, not until he was safely in his car. In the relative privacy of the side street in Merit, he pressed his hand against the drawing in his pocket, and a phantom pain started in his stomach.”

“I have a message for your daughter,” said Cale. “I am bound to her with cables that not even God can break. One day, if there is a soft breeze on her cheek, it may be my breath; one night, if the cool wind plays with her hair, it may be my shadow passing by.” And with this terrible threat he faced forward and the procession started once more. In less than a minute they were gone. In her shady room Arbell Swan-Neck stood white and cold as alabaster.”

“That which is above is from what which is below, and that which is below is from that which is above. A casual reader could have easily interpreted the line to mean that the sun and moon and earth are all connected. But when she read it, all Jasmine could think of was... another world. A world beyond this one. Especially when later sections of the text described the principles of turning base metals into gold and predicted the future creation of an "Elixir of Life"--- immortality--- Jasmine knew her father's interest in this book ran far deeper than mere curiosity. She could feel it.”

“The world is waiting for you, never give up on your dream(s). Arise and make an impact, there are people who are just waiting for your story which will give them a turn around in their lives. It can be the message of the gospel, motivation, inspiration, etc. You need to spread that message, you CAN'T KEEP it to yourself. I dare you to Make a Difference”

“It was filled with a dark paste, rather than liquid. I unscrewed the cap. The smell rolled toward me, and I reared back. I could almost hear growling, the pop of a bone socket. "Civet," Claudia said, unfazed. "It takes a strong stomach to smell an animalic base note straight, don't you think? But a drop or two, down there in the bottom of a perfume? It sends that other message. Death and sex- that's what perfume's all about. You'll understand when you're older." I stared back at her. I knew about death. I knew about sex. I didn't need her to tell me. She held out another bottle, her expression bland. "Jasmine." I was cautious this time, barely sniffing the contents, but the smell was a relief- sweet, white, and creamy, almost euphoric. I felt as if I were floating in it. Just as I was about to put the bottle down, though, I caught a whiff of something else in the background, something narcotic and sticky. I inhaled more deeply, trying to pin it down. "You like it," Claudia said. For the first time, she seemed pleased with me. "Do you know what that is, that note you're searching for?" I shook my head. It was right there, but in that cool, blank room, I couldn't quite name it. "It's shit," Claudia said. She smiled, slow and lazy. "Technically, the molecule's called indole, but a rose by any other name...”

“Or maybe that’s what it’s all about: this religion’s substance is its lack of substance. In McLuhanesque terms, the medium is the message. Some people might find that cool.” “McLuhanesque?” “Hey, look, even I read a book now and then,” Ayumi protested. “McLuhan was ahead of his time. He was so popular for a while that people tend not to take him seriously, but what he had to say was right.” “In other words, the package itself is the contents. Is that it?” “Exactly. The characteristics of the package determine the nature of the contents, not the other way around.”

“Do I think I do not need God? How is it that I believe and follow God if my tendency is to think I do not need relationships in my life? These questions started to plague my mind, but I could only come back to the thought of God’s grace. I believe that God allowed me to view him how I needed to; after all, he knew I needed him.”

“Ukiwa makini, nadhani, utapata maana ya ujumbe unaopewa na Roho Mtakatifu kwa wale wanaomwamini Mungu au ‘daemon’ (tofauti na ‘demon’) kwa wale wasiomwamini Mungu. Mimi, kwa mfano, huwa najali muda. Jicho langu likicheza au kiungo changu chochote cha mwili kikiuma ghafla na kuacha, au hata kisipoacha, jambo lolote ninalolifikiria muda huo ambapo jicho linacheza au kiungo changu cha mwili kinauma najua ni ujumbe kutoka kwa Mungu na una uhusiano na jambo hilo ninaloliwaza. Hivyo, kuanzia sekunde hiyo napaswa kuwa makini sana na jambo lolote ninalolifikiria.”

“If the Edfu Texts contain a record of these events, as I have proposed, then we should take seriously the message they transmit, that there were survivors of the cataclysm who made it their mission to bring about: 'The resurrection of the former world of the gods. ... The re-creation of a destroyed world.' These survivors are said to have wandered the earth, setting out and building sacred mounds wherever they went, and teaching the fundamentals of civilization, including religion, agriculture, and architecture.”

“Jeeves," I said. "A rummy communication has arrived. From Mr. Glossop." "Indeed, sir?" "I will read it to you. Handed in at Upper Bleaching. Message runs as follows: When you come tomorrow, bring my football boots. Also, if humanly possible, Irish water-spaniel. Urgent. Regards. Tuppy. "What do you make of that, Jeeves?" "As I interpret the document, sir, Mr. Glossop wishes you, when you come tomorrow, to bring his football boots. Also, if humanly possible, an Irish water-spaniel. He hints that the matter is urgent, and sends his regards." "Yes, that is how I read it. But why football boots?" "Perhaps Mr. Glossop wishes to play football, sir.”

“I walked over to the paper and bent as the pencil began scribbling across it. You look OK. Are you OK? “Liz?” A stupid question. Liz was the only poltergeist I knew. But if she was here, that meant. “Chloe?” My heart started thudding again. “Where’s Chloe. Did they—?” She’s outside. I took a deep breath. “Good. Okay. My dad’s there, too?” I watched the paper. Nothing happened. “Liz? My dad is with her, right? She called him, didn’t she?” Couldn’t. “What do you mean she couldn’t. She has her cell—” No, she didn’t. We hadn’t taken them into the forest. If Chloe had managed to follow me straight from there … I swore. “Tell her to get to a pay phone. Call collect. Get my dad and—” No time. They’re packing the van. “Then you ride with me. You can find out where we go, and return and Chloe—” We’re getting you out. “What? No. Absolutely not. Tell Chloe—” Girls rule :D”

“The rapid growth of Message- combined with an outpouring of florists offering consultations in the language of flowers to the streams of brides Marlena and I turned away- caused a subtle but concrete shift in the Bay Area flower industry. Marlena reported that peony, marigold, and lavender lingered in their plastic buckets at the flower market while tulips, lilac, and passionflower sold out before the sun rose. For the first time anyone could remember, jonquil became available long after its natural bloom season had ended. By the end of July, bold brides carried ceramic bowls of strawberries or fragrant clusters of fennel, and no one questioned their aesthetics but rather marveled at the simplicity of their desire. If the trajectory continued, I realized, Message would alter the quantities of anger, grief, and mistrust growing in the earth on a massive scale. Farmers would uproot fields of foxglove to plant yarrow, the soft clusters of pink, yellow, and cream the cure to a broken heart. The prices of sage, ranunculus, and stock would steadily increase. Plum trees would be planted for the sole purpose of harvesting their delicate, clustered blossoms and sunflowers would fall permanently out of fashion, disappearing from flower stands, craft stores, and country kitchens. Thistle would be cleared compulsively from empty lots and overgrown gardens.”

“The mistakes of the world are warning message for you.”

“Roots cannot grow into trees if there are no supernatural elements in the soil. Man cannot grow wealthy and famous if he doesn't contribute to either, the good or evil.”

“They took my books because my message was love. They took my pen because my words were love. Then they took my voice because my song was love. Soon they’ll take myself so nothing remains. But they don’t know that when I'm gone my love will stay.”