“There may be challenges or crosses that may have delayed your goals temporarily, but now it’s time to move forward.” MayMovingGoalChallengesCrossesMoving ForwardDelayed Author:T. D. Jakes
“It is easy for desire to be caught like a bird in a net, its wings fouled and twisted, no longer free to cross back and forth between silence and word. Desire may also find itself so amputated by tradition and community that it wanders in a void with nothing to orient it, to shape or discipline it. Desire must find ways to navigate its bitter and sweet paradox: it moves toward but also always through and beyond every object.” WayMayMovingDesireEasyCommunitySilenceObjectsSweetDisciplineShapesBirdTraditionCrossesWingsCaughtBitterWanderParadoxVoidTwistedBack And ForthNavigate Author:Wendy Farley
“There are many things worth telling that are not quite narrative. And eternity itself possesses no beginning, middle or end. Fossils, arrowheads, castle ruins, empty crosses: from the Parthenon to the Bo Tree to a grown man's or woman's old stuffed bear, what moves us about many objects is not what remains but what has vanished. There comes a time, thanks to rivers, when a few beautiful old teeth are all that remain of the two-hundred-foot spires of life we call trees. There comes a river, whose current is time, that does a similar sculpting in the mind.” MenMindDoeTwoEndsBeautifulMovingTreeFeetMiddleObjectsBearsHundredRiversCrossesEmptyEternityRemainsCurrentsTeethRuinsThanksNarrativeFossilsCastlesThere Comes A TimeGrown ManSculptingAll That RemainsSpiresParthenon Author:David James Duncan
“Theoretically, we know that the world turns, but in fact we do not notice it, the earth on which we walk does not seem to move andwe live on in peace. This is how it is concerning Time in our lives. And to render its passing perceptible, novelists must... have their readers cross ten, twenty, thirty years in two minutes.” KnowsWorldYearsDoeTwoFactsSeemsEarthMovingTimeTurnsReadingWalksOur LivesMinutesReaderTenCrossesTwentiesPassingPassingsNovelistsThirtyThirty Years Author:Marcel Proust