It was a woman–as pale and luminescent as a ghost, with swirling white hair. Ezra startled, dropping his pencil into the water. Her face snapped toward him. Her eyes were too large, clear green, and...

All beautiful things must end. Otherwise they are not beautiful.

Listen to your inner voice. Look deeply into soul, there is beauty surrounding you.

All we had was her room, her stories, and the quiet that settled in as we tried in vain to spread ourselves out and fill the space she’d left behind.

The weather was clear and still, and the countless stars opened above them, seeming like brilliant cold fruits that Maerad could simply pick out of the sky.

MYTH: Beautiful Writing Trumps AllREALITY: Storytelling Trumps Beautiful Writing, Every Time

From the earth, from the air, sustaining forces pour into us–mostly from the earth. To no man does the earth mean so much as to the soldier. When he presses himself down upon her long...

..if you could forget mortality… You could really believe that time is circular, and not linear and progressive as our culture is bent on proving. Seen in geological perspective, we are fossils in the making,...

Make each day a beautiful day of your life.

Each instant brought them, more momentous than the explosion of Krakatoa. It was only that no one noticed. We are to accustomed to the absurdity of existence. The loss of a universe is not worth...

She ached: oh, how she ached. Her soul was like one big bruise.

But monsters are.” She opened her mouth wide and showed Azhar the wildflowers sitting on her tongue.

For the moment I can think of nothing— except that I am a sentient being stabbed by the miracle of these waters that reflect a forgotten world.

It was the time of year when migrating crows wheeled across the sky, thunderous flocks that moved like a single veil, and I heard them, out there in the wild chirruping air. Turing to the...

When you travel observe the beauty of the place.

a single-file army of ants biting a mammoth tree into uniform grains and hauling it down to the dark for their ravenous queen. and, in reply, a choir of seedlings arching their necks out of...

His dear face, dear to her, dearer still. how could she love his face more for its damage? What kind of person saw someone’s suffering and felt her heart crack open even wider, even more...

We are all beautiful creation of God.

Sometimes I wore smiles but didn’t feel them. Sometimes I felt them and didn’t wear them. I didn’t want her to know how much I craved this. I bit my bottom lip.

We cannot claim to love God, if we continue to live in unclean environment and pollute the waters. God gave man and woman the authority to rule every living creature and to safeguard the living...

The density of the butterflies in the air now gave her a sense of being underwater, plunged into a deep pond among bright fishes.

Every now and then we enter the presence of the numinous and deduce for an instant how we’re formed, in what detail the force that infuses every petal might specifically run through us, wishing only...

Something is going to happen, Laura thought. She was going to be kissed. On one side of a kiss was childhood, sunshine,innocence, toys and, on the other, people embracing, darkness, passion and the admittance of...

Fallon affected my body in weird ways. But only because she’s different, I told myself.

A woman’s love for a man should never be taken for granted. What is life without love?

I suppose you think you know what autumn looks like. Even if you live in the Los Angeles dreamed of by September’s schoolmates, you have surely seen postcards and photographs of the kind of autumn...

She said his music was tuned to the biggest music there ever was, the music of the stars.

All great people had critics but they still believe in the beauty of their dreams, fully persuaded to stay focused and determined for the realisationof their dreams.

There are exactly as many special occasions in life as we choose to celebrate.

I am blessed.I am beautiful.I am great.

The sun hitched up her trousers and soldiered on up into the sky. September squinted at it and wondered if the sun here was different than the sun in Nebraska. It seemed gentler, more golden,...

The wind swoops over the tenements on Orchard Street, where some of those starry-eyed dreams have died and yet other dreams are being born into squalor and poverty, an uphill climb. It gives a slap...

We can never forget the beautiful places we have been.

…en av de mänskliga rättigheterna måste vara den att för en tid fådra sig undan allt som händer och sitta så här vid sidan av skeendet,få vända världen ryggen ett ögonblick medan solen lyser och...

Science rock: The pursuit of science, lead us to the beautiful places of the world.

She had been born with a different name, to a woman with laughing eyes and warmly whispered words of love who’d died degraded and afraid on a misty Irish morning.

Men do not die on mornings like this:whatever happens then happens in their name,like the lives of obscure saints, who exist only in folk memory.

We can never forget the the beautiful places we have been.

I’m not sure. But there’s something about the darkness, the stillness of this hour, I think, that creates a language of its own. There’s a strange kind of freedom in the dark; a terrifying vulnerability...

The river was so blue it seemed to be breathing.

When you travel, take many photographs of the place to have a historical memories of the place.

I erupt from the dark, crushing tunnel into a flash of light and noise. A new kind of air surrounds me, dry and cold, as they wipe the last smears of home off my skin....

Together they spent their whole lives waiting for their luck to change, as though luck were some fabulous tide that would one day flood and consecrate the marshes of our island, christening us in the...

We must experience Heaven on earth;May your homes, surroundings and work places portray a safe clean environment.

Feelings that would not have disgraced a leader who, now that the snow has begun to fall and the mountain-top is covered in mist, knows that he must lay himself down and die before morning...

She wanted to stay out there, to hang on her branch in the world until the cold had burned down to her bones. She could leave her whitened bones scattered on the snow and depart...

Becoming hurts.

But in the name of all that is holy, Mosca, of all the people you could have taken up with, why Eponymous Clent?” murmured Kohlrabi.Because I’d been hording words for years, buying them from peddlers...

I’m like the moon,” he started, “the hidden side of the moon. Not seen because it don’t want to be seen. Everyone knows ther’s is shadow there, but no one looks. It’s like that with...

Use your imagination to create your beautiful life.